Thoughts on a Monday Afternoon After A Latte…

Sometimes fear of the blank page causes me to avoid writing anything at all. As if, if my work is not perfection, then it has no right to exist. If my writing is not immaculate, then I count it as defeat. When, really, it is probably best if I put all of the swirling words down… easier to make sense of them that way, after all. And my crushing fear that maybe I am not as good at writing as I would like to believe I am… the fear seems to be taking on a life of its own, crushing every creative impulse I have. So, now I will boldly confront my fear, and I will write. (Boldly confronting my fear conjures up images of a cartoon me, with a cape, a tiara and a scepter with a star on the end, standing with feet apart, ready to kick my fear in the shins)

In 2009, I vowed to read “24 Hours A Day,” well, every day… And, for the past 5 days, I have. I feel refreshed after my reading, refocused. But I can’t help but notice that the past five entries say almost the same thing… I am to acknowledge my alcoholism, my powerlessness (by turning to God), and be willing to help others. Seems so very simple, like it needn’t be said five times. But, hell, I have to repeat everything I say to my students three times, or they won’t remember it at all. So maybe this is the same principle. Or maybe it is the subtle nuances that leave me feeling like I have something to ponder, something to return to in the middle of may day. My thoughts often need refreshing, after all.

Today was the first day of classes for Spring 09. I made it through with very little trauma. Okay, there was someone jackhammering during my class. So the kids and I had to yell a little bit to be heard. But there were no intolerable moments of panic. I got a little sketched a couple times in my last two classes. I felt hyper aware that I was standing there, the focal point of attention. And a few times I felt a bit detached from my body and voice… which sounds God awful, but is really just small potatoes on the panic attack front. So, I am going to give myself the gold star of approval for not only surviving my first day back, but flourishing… Hey, I made the kids laugh. That is no easy task. 18 year olds are a tough crowd. Trust me.

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2 Comments on “Thoughts on a Monday Afternoon After A Latte…”

  1. Amy Says:

    Welcome back small pea. I’m so glad your first day went well.

  2. Miss Kris Says:

    Kikaroo! So glad to see you posting again. I wonder if teachers who have been teaching for 20+ years still get nervous at the beginning of the year/semester/quarter? Have you ever talked to your mom about it?

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