So here I find myself. Ending the much-too-short break between semesters. Rushing to put together the new and improved versions of classes (plus figure out how best to revive a really old one).
Dear Diary,
How are you? I am fine (-ish). Last semester was pretty disappointing (lame) for various reasons. I really really really really really hope that this coming one will be better. It is the SPRING semester and warmer weather is thereby implied. Days are already getting longer and surely those swirls of powdery cold dust will evaporate by morning's light! Or, maybe by next day's morning light? Please?
There must be something in me that is similar to the loss of pain memory that mothers experience after each birth. Ask them within the last few minutes (or hours) of labor, and you will likely hear, "No f%&*ing way will I ever do THAT again!" But after some time passes, they forget the pain (having survived it) and start planning for the next brat-poop.
Lately, each semester seems to end similarly with me having strong negative feelings. So much effort put into the classes, so little apparent gain. Why bother? Then a mere few days passes when the "ideas" start trickling in again... "Maybe if I were to do this next time?" Or, "I should try saying this next time..." And I start getting all geared up for another mother-load of classes. Until by the first quarter of the semester I realize I am doing it again. Teaching is a cruel bitch of a task-master for me. Or maybe I am just a masochist? Or maybe both?
Anyway - here I am, complaining about the end of a break when I still have more than 10 days of it left! I guess that's because I feel that I have so much to do before then. And my motivation? Hmm, that must be around here somewhere... Let's see... where did I leave that?
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