Looks like I’m in a stable lull in the mornings, although I generally find enough to keep me busy. Most of the early rush of tutors has come and gone and most of the neediest students have been placed with someone. So now it’s more maintenance, with occasional spates of new stuff. Which is good in that it’s a bit of a breather, but bad in that it can get boring on those days when I’ve got three hours of work and four hours to kill. Ah well. No complaints. It beats being stuck in the reverse situation.
In the afternoons, usually Sarah and I take turns watching the kids who want to be outside after homework. Today I actively lobbied for the chance. Near-70 temps, sunshine, very little wind – what more could you want in mid-November. And I tend to suffer from SAD during the dark months, so I’ll take all the year-end sunlight I can get. Dunno how many more days like this we’ll have – I’m still a newb when it comes to all things Ashevillian. But I’m hoping that this is more harbinger than anomaly. Because I’m all about enjoyin’ me some sunny, 67 degree winter days, fo sho.
On a down note, no cookies today. Sarah and I have decided that since we’re having end of day meetings that cookies are earned, en masse, for good meeting behavior. And they were pretty good to start with, but rather quickly devolved into shouting and chaos beyond which the meeting could not continue. So no one got cookies. Which pissed them off royally. Hopefully it’ll have it’s intended effect. We’ll see. In any case, I’m rather looking forward to the upcoming Thanksgiving break to get a break of my own from the stress and come back refreshed. It’s not bad, really. Just that I can’t help feeling way out of my league (I mean, come on, some life-long teachers have trouble controlling a room full of kids) and sometimes it just builds up. Today was one of those, even though on a strictly individual basis the day itself actually went fairly well. I’m just getting a bit overwhelmed, I think. And I just hope I’m actually doing some good instead of just being a glorified babysitter with no lasting effect.
Ah well. Sufficient to the day and all that jazz. I’m out of here. The blogosphere doth call, and its voice is as the songbird of spring, enticing me to come forth from my dreary hovel and play, once again, in the warm and welcoming cyberlight.
(You see what I mean. Stress = bad poetry. I’ve seen it happen before and trust me – by the end of the line, it ain’t pretty. We’re talking potential emo angst in iambic freakin’ pentameter here, folks. *shudder*)