10 Jun

As my final year as a teacher was winding down, I decided to put something relevant to that on my Facebook wall. But what to post? The fact that I, as a baby boomer, even needed to ponder what to put on my Facebook wall must make younger generations groan. Anyway, I went for the Sheryl Crow lyrics, “Every day is winding road, I get a little bit closer …” It worked for me.
Not to sound too schmaltzy, but here in early June I’m still on that winding road, trying to figure out my new daily routine. Of course, I no longer need to wake up at 5:30 and slowly get ready for school (my lethargy in this matter increased greatly toward the last couple of months, and I wouldn’t get to school until past 8 a.m., vs. the 7:30 start time that I was supposed to honor; who said teachers need to care about school bells?). And I no longer have a day regulated by my class schedule, with third hour Newspaper and Yearbook being the only 85 minutes that went by quickly. And I no longer have to sit at my desk in a half-catatonic state at 2 o’clock to mull over the day.
But all that is over, and it’s time for transitions. I have transitioned all my to-do lists, folders, calendars and computer to the bedroom desk to fashion some kind of home office. I have spent several hours this week weeding out school papers and knocking my lesson plan folders, associated content, etc., down to the essentials, just in case I ever need them again. Wow, I was a packrat. Or maybe I just never had time to go through these folders. In addition, I had let my e-mail in-boxes sprout wildly, and I’ve been taking a kind of mindless joy in whacking those down.
I have diverted myself with chores in the yard, which is looking great, but I’m not quite ready to tackle bigger projects inside the house.
I am trying to think back to what worked for me when I was writing the book in 1997-98, and I guess that I got going about 9, might have had phone calls to take care of or trips to make around the Valley, and then wrote for a few hours in the afternoon. I pretty much wrapped up when the kids got off the school bus at 3.
But right now the morning light is coming through beautifully in the bedroom; the uncomfortable Danish knee chair beckons me, and lo and behold, I have sat down to write this entry for a half-hour, even though it’s not very good. (I haven’t had my tea yet.) So this seems like the start of a good routine.


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