Life as an Extreme Sport


I’m susceptible to post-teaching blues. There’s such a high when you teach, and feel so in your element and on your game, that the crash can be hard. I’m teaching for seven hours a day right now, in chunks that give me at least one crash, if not two. It’s hard. It’s hard to stay positive and think you’re doing a good job – and it’s even harder when you don’t have a classroom key, you don’t get all your supplies, you’re flying by the seat of your pants because someone screwed up and there weren’t textbooks, and you keep finding out at the last minute that the things you need can’t be had.

I have about two hours to pull a two hour lesson plan out of thin air – that includes making photo copies and eating dinner. My TA has the night off, I didn’t get the movie I needed, and I nearly broke into tears in front of the academic dean – told him it was just everything all at once, and I need a nap. A nap I can’t take because I have to do other things. And there won’t be sleep after class, either – the lack of movie throws my entire schedule and plan off, and I’d better come up with at least 5-10 hours of material before morning class.

On top of all that, I’m missing my support system. The people I normally talk to, who know how to deal with me, who know how to be kind without coddling, or causing tears.

I know this is normal for me, I know it will shake out in another day or two. But right now I just want to throw myself down on my bed and cry. Instead, I’m going to figure out what I can do for tonight’s class. Because, if nothing else, I am a magician, and I always pull it out of my hat – even if it’s the very very very possible last minute.