There aren’t words for how tired I am right now. Exhausted doesn’t even cover it. My roommate and I have discovered that Saturdays should, for us at least, be renamed ‘Sleepday’, because that it is all we seem to do on them.
Why am I so exhausted? Well, I’m about to head into week 12 of school. As a British teacher who is used to six or seven week (sometimes five week) half-terms, 12 weeks without a break is hard. And there’s another two weeks to go after that until we finally have a week off. Not the usual two weeks for Easter, mind, just the one. I’ll take the one week, though, because, as we say in Yorkshire, I’m knackered. Cream crackered. Done in. Buggered.
I need a break.
This week the germs caught up with me too. Until you’ve worked in a classroom full of sneezing and coughing kids who have no sense of personal hygiene and who find snot more fascinating that the learning objective, you won’t truly appreciate the perils of the mere common cold. Or bacteria in general. My class have worked their way through three boxes of tissues in the past ten days: no lie. And still they haven’t managed to catch said snot in said tissues. Hence, I’m germ-ridden. Of course, I’m a teacher, so I haven’t taken any time off. It’s more trouble than it’s worth, believe me.
So I’ve muddled on through the germs and exhaustion, surviving on sugar and chocolate and an ‘it’s almost Spring Break’ attitude. I’ll repeat: I’m knackered.
My roommate is a fellow British teacher in America and we have both found ourselves so tired that each Saturday has become ‘Sleepday’. We work ourselves to the bone during the week, and then Saturday comes around and all we do is sleep. After comparing notes, it seems our Saturdays go much the same way. We wake up, we get a cup of tea, we go back to bed. We start a movie on Netflix, we fall asleep before the drama kicks in. We talk over lunch about how tired we are and how we’ll maybe go out next weekend; we go back to bed and sleep some more.
I’ll repeat: we’re knackered.
But Sunday comes around and we do more than sleep. This week, we went for a walk. We needed fresh air, we needed out. So we went to the North Carolina Museum of Art. It was cold, windy and dull, but the walk was great. Then we explored the museum (second time for me) and discussed the art like we weren’t just two tired teachers needing to get out of the house and remember what the world outside of a classroom looks like.
I recently bought myself a new camera, a proper, DSLR, I-can-take-real-photographs kind of camera. I love it already, I don’t have a clue how to work it yet, but I love it. And I especially love messing around with the focus.
Maybe my wanting to change the focus on my photos is a metaphor for my life, wanting to change the focus: more rest, less bone-weary work, more creativity, less meeting standards… Ignore me, I’m just tired and my brain is re-charging for Monday.
I did enjoy one particular piece of art as we were walking around the park today. Don’t ask me the title or artist, because I can’t remember. But I do remember it was something about chaos and peace and the fight between the two. Um…another metaphor?
Nah, just a nice piece of art on a lovely walk 🙂