Just Like the Old Days

My first year of teaching was the worst year of teaching in my entire career. Aside from the devil-children I had for students, I knew nothing about how to manage large groups of people let alone large groups of 13 year olds. I knew nothing about American History, my assigned position, and I knew nothing about living in a small town, which is where I landed my first job.

In my first year of teaching I developed an ulcer, lost a ton of weight (something I could use now, but not then), and contracted every virus that came through my classroom. I walked through the year with a sore throat, runny nose, and upset stomach. During vacation breaks I got sicker spending whole weeks in bed trying to gear up for my return to the classroom where I was destined to catch another virus.

My immune system took a beating that first year, but by my fifth year, I wore that system like an armor and rarely got sick. Not that I never got sick, but I dodged many a virus over the years and aside from one mild cold a year, I rarely got sick over vacations, something for which I was very thankful.

I shouldn't have been surprised when, this morning, I woke with a sore throat, scratchy eyes, and that achy feeling that something yucky was building inside of me. After 22 years of teaching, I shouldn't have been surprised at all that some cold or flu is developing to wallop me just like the old days, the beginning days of my teaching.

It doesn't help that the warm 70s of yesterday have given way to a cool breeze, misty showers, and cold temperatures. Between the developing cold and the caca weather, I'm feeling a tad bit unmotivated. And I had big plans for today.

First, I was going to pull out the elbow grease and clean the house in a way it hasn't been cleaned in a long, long time. Next, I'm taking a course to earn credits to maintain my teaching certification (just in case I go back) and there are mountains of pages to read about plate tectonics, marine sediments, deep-sea vents, and planktonic life forms. Rubin goes to the groomer today and he needs a long walk to calm his energy. And there's the job application for REI that needs to be completed.

But right now I just want to crawl back into bed and sleep away the crud coursing through my veins.

A doctor friend of mine said that when you're sick, the best thing to do is to just move slowly through the day. Drink lots of fluids and know that "this too shall pass." She said, "Nothing you do is going to make the yuckies go away any faster, so you just have to ride it out and not let it floor you."

Besides. It's only fitting that after 22 years of hard work, I'm letting down in typical fashion. Like a punctuation mark at the end of a career this cold marks the final "letting go." Hell, I should just sit on the couch and enjoy it!