The pace of a public school is swift and so was my life last year. My classroom was my own, but the fact that I had a room full of young teens and a behemoth list of topics to cram in before the end of the year pushed me into hyperdrive whether I wanted to be or not.
And then there is the time out of the classroom. My prep time was governed by a ticking clock. My lunch time was cut shorter and shorter as I tried to do it all. My various meetings were usually frustrating and generally thought of as a waste of time. My inbox was constantly refilling with complaints from life-sucking parents who needed to just parent.
It was high-stress and high-maintenance. And in a way I loved it. Yes, I crashed all the time and was frustrated out of my mind, but I loved that pace of life. I loved managing chaos. I got such a rush from completing a hundred little tasks before the next big event. I felt great when a room full of people paid attention to me. It was affirming to know that I was invaluable.
And now I have me.
The wood stove.
Large spans of unmanaged time stretching blankly like snow covered fields.
It’s like I moved my brain from the city to the butt-crack middle-of-nowhere.
I tell people I am adjusting. This is not a lie. There are ups and downs, but it is getting better.
I am connecting with others, having time for the things I like to do, and slowly shifting my brain to think like a smart business woman. I can feel myself settling into this new life.
I am finding a routine. I am going to be chronicling one day a month on Seek Your Course and wrote the first one this week. It was interesting to detail my every movement for a day. A good perspective to have, I think.
But I do miss the pace of a job job. In some ways. I do not miss being so utterly exhausted all the time. Tradeoffs, I know.