GIVE ME SCHOOL OR GIVE ME DEATH

Hey, y’all.

Know this: I had lofty goals (and many scribbled on drafts) chronicling funny moments, cute quotes, etc. about this first semester of year 2.

But I’m putting them on hold for a second, because all I want right now is to see my students. There’s this woman, though. You probably know her. A bit bipolar, loves to dress in white. Gives you chills each time she embraces you this time of year. Yes, my lovely friend Mother Nature. Readers, I adore Mother Nature in Indiana. For her unpredictable ways. For the beautiful snow she showers us with in the winter months (I’m watching it right now from my window). The radiating sunshine of July and August. I especially love the weather in between.

BUT! Right now, she is keeping me from school. From my kids. And though they’re 14 and 15 and mostly take their education for granted (like most of us did at that age) and won’t be as excited to see me as I’d like, I MISS THEM dearly.

As a result of this {freeze, snow, rinse, repeat} we’ve got going on, for the past week, our school has been participating in eLearning days. These days are awesome. I post lesson plans online in the morning, keep my laptop open all day and wait for a chime to lure me back to answer the inevitable, “Miss Regan, I forgot my password. HELP!” plea over. and over. and over again (I’ve answered 6 so far while writing this). I use the in-between time to plan. Or think about planning. Or think about procrastinating. Or watch Gilmore Girls. Or use the restroom at my leisure (something that I don’t get to do during a regular school day). Bottom line is, we’re having school, just not IN the school building. And though I’ve been rocking my teacher twitter and answering emails like a boss, I’d much rather be standing at my doorway between classes shouting “GOOOOOD MORNING” in a British accent and absorbing the reciprocating glares and eye rolls.

  

A discussion with my dear friend Danielle (check out her teaching adventures here) this weekend reminded me this: teaching is a lifestyle. My day-to-day, my well-being, my oxygen. It’s where I feel most fulfilled (and often, most worthless and alone). I am that lifestyle (and in a sense, I have always been that).