Three Cold Tater Tots

Today was one of the longest teaching days I've had in awhile.  In addition to my regular circus show at the high school, I also taught my first night class in some twelve years.  I'd forgotten how grueling they were.

Part of the problem is that I have been worrying about the class for two weeks now.  I even had nightmares last night in which I couldn't find the classroom, couldn't work the technology, had forgotten everything about literature I ever knew.  I have been fortifying myself with caffeine all day to remain functional, and my body is even now shaking because of how "done" it is with that strategy.

Nothing that one is stressed out over that much is ever going to go well, probably.

My first impression was how much I missed my little classroom.  I get so used to having everything I need at my fingertips, on a shelf, in a drawer, that being transplanted somewhere else was a huge adjustment.  Not since my days at Aichi University have I done the traveling bag-o-stuff teacher routine.  Even there, I was usually close to my office, so if I found myself in need of something, I could just run back.  Tonight, I felt a little like a castaway, just me and my little raft of supplies staying afloat.

And I think my raft had a bit of a leak.

Even though I had planned, I didn't have nearly enough to fill the long night class.  My pacing was all off.  We finished too early, and now I feel like I failed somehow.  The funny thing is, I'm sure the students were as happy as only a night class student let out early can be.  I'm surprised they didn't all grow wings and simply fly away in beatific joy.

I sat in the classroom after everyone was gone and worked on the plans for next week.  It won't happen again, folks.  Two teachers and a small army of assistants couldn't get all the way through what I've got set up for next Monday.

I turned out all the lights, shut down all the computers, and walked through the beginnings of a heavy rain to my car.  The drive home was an adventure due to road work which had erased all the stripes on two lanes of interstate and interspersed it all with cones and unexpected surface height shifts.   The rain that had been drizzling at the college came down enough to slow traffic to a crawl. When I finally got home, I was exhausted and discouraged.  I grabbed the Sonic bag that had held my ersatz dinner, and inside were three sad, cold tater tots.  I sat with the door open, rain spattering on the arm rest, and ate them one by one.

Next Monday won't be like this.  There won't be a lackluster lesson (we have THREE pieces of literature to look at next week spanning THREE separate literary movements, I-thank-you-very-much).  I won't have a cup of Sonic fried chicken as my main evening meal.  I will have a teacher kit that boggles the mind on hand.  There will be PowerPoints, handouts, guiding questions, and yes, maybe even drama.

But never again, Scarlett O'Hara hand clenched and God as my witness, will there be an empty classroom too early and three sad cold tater tots in the bag at the end of the day.