Why I Really Can Never Get Married

I've spent almost 30 years being single. Recently, I've realized this has absolutely ruined me for any incoming parties...not that I have any interested applicants. Sometimes I think it might be nice to have a boyfriend or a husband...and then I remember:

1. I set at least 5 alarms every morning. I snooze some of them while still asleep. I sleep through some completely. No one will live through this morning torture. 

2. My cat needs at least 2 solid hours of my undivided attention every night. And he ranks pretty high in my book.

3. My apartment regularly reflects the inner chaos of my mind. If I'm overwhelmed, stressed, depressed, or anxious, you better believe I just take my shoes off in the middle of the living room. Or let the dishes pile up. Once, last week, after a particularly stressful day, I dropped a piece of plastic on the floor and the act of picking it up seemed Herculean. 

4. My shower is already full. I have a different shower routine every day and have to fully stock with all the scrubs and conditioners. No shelf room available. 

5. On that same note, I am not willing or able to share a closet.

6. I am guaranteed to go off about the most asinine things. Once, my sister's boyfriend mixed up all my alphabetized spices in the kitchen and I was ENRAGED. 

7. I don't do quiet. This is my volume. It does not change. I will use that volume on a call with friends or singing in the shower. And is you shush me...see #6.

It's a very, very good thing I enjoy my own company. 😄

The Art of Stepping Back

 A few weeks ago, when Simone Biles dropped out of events at the Olympics, my first reaction was, "But you've worked so hard for this moment. Why are you wasting it?" It wasn't that she was letting me down or the United States down. I felt like she was letting herself down. What I didn't realize at that time was that she was, in fact, doing the opposite. She was holding herself together.

I haven't been posting lately because I've been completely overwhelmed at work. I respond to emails in my bed the second I wake up. I'm revising lesson plans as I absent-mindedly shovel dinner into my mouth. I teach kids in 5 different grade levels at two different schools at very definitely abilities. Sometimes I am teaching what sound "a" makes while simultaneously editing an essay. I stayed after school for over an hour today to coach other teachers on how to use a specific website. I ate cheese crackers in the car for lunch. I used speech-to-text to respond to a question from a principal.

Why are you doing all that?, you might ask. Trust me, my family and friends have been asking that for weeks. In some ways, while it doesn't sound like it, this is my dream job. I went back to school, even when I vowed to be done, because I became so passionate about English language learning. I willingly spent hours of my spare time learning about new technology to better engage and assess students because I love it. I'm always on the move and I get to interact with a wide variety of teachers and students every single day. I may not be a dazzling gymnast, but I'm good at this. 

Just because I CAN do all these things though, doesn't mean I have to do it all alone. Two weeks ago, we sat in a meeting and my boss handed out another responsibility to my already very crowded plate. As she explained the assignment, I glanced around the room. I thought, "If I don't do this, someone else will have to carry the burden. If I don't do this, I will look bad to my boss. If I don't do this, am I failing at this job?"

But then, finally, I thought of Simone Biles and thought, "If I DO this, I will hurt myself." Maybe I won't fall and break my legs or hit my head. But mentally, I will be injured. So, I turned to my boss (through tears I admit) and said, "I cannot do that. I am overwhelmed and this is too much." As she promptly handed over the task to a coworker, I felt guilty and selfish. It isn't selfish, though. If I don't take care of myself, I can't take care of my students. I can't be present for my coworkers. Like Simone, I have to assess my limits. I have to protect myself.

I still struggle with the art of stepping back. I probably will my whole life. I want to take care of people. The reality is doing everything for everyone all of the time isn't the only way to care. So I practice a little at a time. When a student came up to me for the 20th time, interrupting me with a question about a worksheet, I started to feel that overwhelmed, shaky feeling. So, first I physically stepped back. I took a breath to calm myself. Then I called another student over. "Could you work together on this? I think you can be a great team." I just graded the assignment. They got 100% and I didn't have to be there. So, if you're like me, take a step back, take a breath. Letting go doesn't always mean you are going to fall.