spinning

. . . round and round like a dryer in a laundromat-- that's my brain these days. I dream about lesson planning, crazy teens, cleaning my room (which, incidentally, is beginning to look like the site of a smallish explosion. . . and i need to locate and purge the source of a somewhat odd smell). I wake up from dreams about being late for school, or not having tests ready, or kids asking me why I haven't done stuff I promised to do. The weekend is not long enough to recuperate (especially since my advisor likes to use the weekends to review next week's lessons over the phone. . . and then suggest a myriad of-- truly--helpful, but time-consuming changes to be implemented for the morning, usually an hour before I plan to go to bed. I have a sneaking suspicion that I also have a number of unpaid bills well overdue, and no time for a part-time job in sight. 8 more weeks. 8 more weeks. . .

(3 poetry units going on this term-- do you like my similes?)