August 1 is fast approaching. That's the day when I need to start thinking about getting back to work. Maybe more than think. Maybe looks at some books. Review my lessons from last year. Collaborate with colleagues.
The thought of going back to work is giving me anxiety attacks. I'm sure they'll wear off.
Okay, on the down-low here, I was thinking that I am not sure if I like these long summers. In some ways they are too long. The last few years I have actually forgotten that I have a job like everyone else, and I'm not spending my waking hours reading books, watching movies, and surfing the net because I'm wealthy. When the time comes for me to go back to my reality, it hurts. Seriously. Hurts.
Of course, I work my rear off during the year, and I think I deserve my vacation. I mean if that's what you call it. I really only get paid for 180-something days of work, and in the district where I work, they choose to spread my salary out over twelve months. But whatever the justification, maybe the allocation of time does not always help my mental stability.
For nine months of the year, I'm a whipped servant, a lowly teacher keeping her head low, just trying to do her best by the students. The other three months, I'm a lady of leisure, with money that magically appears in my bank account, thinking that I should do something charitable with my extra time. Ah, but I never get around to it. I'm much to busy with myself.
Funny, I know. It's my dream world. I must do it very well though because at one time this summer, my aunt said something about my not seeming like a teacher. The way I look? The way I act? I don't know. But I was playing my lady of leisure role very well!
Sigh. Two more days.
Transitioning to reality is hard. I need a 12-step program or a detox diet. Something to ease the pain.