I gave my first negative teacher evaluation the other day. As nice as my teacher is, and as much as I learned in the class, it had absolutely nothing to do with her. It was all from the chapters in the textbook. It still killed me to give such a nice lady such a bad evaluation. Teaching has hardened me in a lot of ways; I can now give a sweet kid and F and not feel more than a twinge, but grading teachers is still hard for me.
The week before last I got really, really sick. A nasty infection hit on that Wednesday, and I took my first sick leave from work and skipped class to go see a doctor (The first time I'd been to a non-dentist type doctor since high school). I was so sick that I fell asleep in the parking lot of the Smith's where I went to fill my prescription. I slept slumped in the front seat of my car in my work clothes for an hour before I managed to stagger in to the store to get my medicine. Luckily, antibiotics work fast. Within 24 hours of beginning my prescription, I felt much better. Which was good, because within 48 hours it became clear I had Strep throat, too. Back to the doctor, back the pharmacy for another set of antibiotics. Luckily, antibiotics work fast. Within 24 hours of beginning my prescription, I felt much better. Which was good, because I have to teach school and go to class and grade papers and clean my apartment and get back to rock climbing.
I took my last antibiotic yesterday morning, thank heaven. It's been years since I took an antibiotic, and the double round definitely proved to me that they're not generally a healthy thing. Like most medicine, it's skillfully applied poison. My digestive system is pretty messed up now, and I even got the dry skin and rash I'd heard of but never experienced myself with antibiotic use. Here's hoping that a lot of water, yogurt, and sleep rebuilds the bacteria farms in my gut.
I'm getting back to climbing. I haven't been able to put together a regular climbing schedule since July, and between teaching school, taking classes, moving, getting sick multiple times, etc., I hadn't made it climbing more than four times since school started. I've lost a lot of ground and muscle (and gained some weight). But I still love this sport, and even though I'm not as good as I was, I know how to get there again, and I know it shouldn't take me long if I make it a priority.
While cutting snowflakes for my Christmas tree last night I thought, "Dreams are like paper snowflakes. You craft them late at night in solitude, then tuck them between the pages of some book to press for some future time. They're beautiful, painstaking, and very, very fragile."
I was listening to a This American Life episode this morning, and heard this, "Her steps were brisk and determined, like a school teacher's." I don't know how many school teachers' walks you have studied, but this is almost universally true the teachers I know. We whisk down halls, and when we're in a hurry we barge or barrel down them, heaven help whoever or whatever gets in our way. I have to periodically remind myself that I'm not in hurry half of the time, I can take the time to walk like a normal person. I once barreled down the aisle between desks in my classroom so fast that when I got caught on the sharp edge of a broken desk it cut me through my pants. This intense, brisk, determined attitude spills over to nearly everything I do. I type briskly and determinedly, I grade papers briskly and determinedly, I give instructions that way, I read that way sometimes, I do my make-up that way, I blow dry my hair as quickly as I can. A friend of mine recently informed me that I chew like someone is timing me--all the time. And I clench my jaw while I sleep. That's right, I even sleep with determination.
1 comment:
Brusque or brisk? Hard to tell on the radio. Maybe both. Isn't English awesome? :)
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