I went to bed at 10:30 last night. I spent a while having a Facetime conversation with my Beloved, who was in a lull at work. I turned off the light.
In what passed for my mind, a number of unworthy things clamored for attention, the worst of which was the awareness that I have a very long day (7 a to 7 p) on Mondays, and today will be complicated by taking my only mother to her chemotherapy appointment on my lunch hour. She travels with three (three!!) tanks of oxygen, and wrestling these into and out of the car, along with her wheelchair, is exhausting. Then I have to go teach a three-hour class. THEN (just for today) I ‘m supposed to have a birthday dinner with a good friend, which would be a lot more to look forward to if I felt like a human.
I tossed. I turned. I fell asleep sometime after two. At four thirty, I woke up, and a whole new set of frets marched across my brain. I toyed with calling the dean and staying in bed until time to get Mom, but what would be the point? Sleep wasn’t happening there.
So I made my bleary way to my office, where lack of brainpower forced me to focus on one task at a time. I waded into the homework, 22 freshman composition students reading John Dewey and trying to figure out what he said. And . . . they rocked it. I know I complained in an earlier post about pushback from their free-form collaboration assignment, but they were amazing at reading Dewey and figuring out what was going on.
So this morning, headachy, underslept, and way too busy to be either of those things, I have to say this. I LOVE my students. Class was the most energizing, positive thing that was possible given today’s circumstances. I still have a headache, and I could use a nap, but I came out of class feeling like we all learned something, and knowing that we made a connection between reading and having something to say when we write.
THIS is why I get out of bed in the morning, even when I don’t want to. Hallelujah and Happy Monday!