Friday has never been so glorious.
This has been one of the most draining weeks that I can remember.
I started student teaching on Monday. I was nervous, but also excited to get into the classroom and get to know my students. There's only so much planning that can be done before you meet your students.
People keep asking me how this week has gone. My answer depends on the day of the week (or the specific class). Some days I came home thrilled and more excited about teaching. Other days, or even just after certain classes, I would be frustrated and feel deflated. I think I'm just really hard on myself. So, I answer the question of how it all went by saying, "well, I've realized I have a lot to learn." Which is the point in the first place; so that's something positive, I guess.
Today was the tipping point. I have one class that I had a hard time getting much response from (or at least, that's how it felt). During the last ten or fifteen minutes they were working on a writing assignment, and I had to fight to hold back tears. That of course frustrated me because I wasn't exactly sure why.
After school I went to talk to my supervising teacher, to try to "debrief" the week, and I couldn't get anything out because I was fighting back tears as hard as I could. I couldn't make eye contact, because my eyes were glistening and I didn't want him to see. Mostly, I just felt dumb. I will probably tell him next week that that happened, because I have been able to process it some. But at the time, all I could think was, "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry."
I got out of there as fast as I could. I called Michael, and while the phone was ringing I started balling. So much so, that when he answered his phone I could barely get any words out. He couldn't even understand me. We both know that I build up emotions and then need to just cry them out, sometimes for no specific reason. Often, something really tiny sets me off and then I ball and ball, and I can't put my finger on why.
I am a big crier, and have to just accept that. This week was draining physically. I came home every night and was exhausted, and usually in bed before 10. (Which is a big deal for me). Plus, I have been getting up at 5:30 every morning, and I don't think I've ever gotten up that early this consistently (and will continue for the next five months).
Besides being my first week of teaching, I had class every night until at least 7. So, Michael and I would both get home between 7:30 and 8, maybe watch American Idol (while he was also still working) and then head to bed by 9:30. So, we haven't spent much time together this week either.
To top it all off, he had to go to Twin Rocks this weekend for a retreat, and I had to be in Salem this weekend, so we won't see each other all weekend, either. I think our schedules have taken a toll on me as well.
So, it all came crashing down as the week drew to a close: I cried, talked it out with Michael, went home, "freshened up," and rewarded myself with a "Snickerdoodle": a white mocha with vanilla and cinnamon from the coffee drive-thru around the corner.
I am a big journaler, and blogging is a good way for me to process the week. Hence, the long blog!