June 4, 2012
Ah, Summer vacation. Time to catch up on some sleep. One of the major disadvantages of being a teacher is having to change my identity throughout the year. From August to May, I am a teacher “first, last, and always.” Up at 5:45, home by 6 in time to go running, yoga-ing, pilates-ing, etc. But then there’s the summer. Now, I’m not complaining by any means. For those who are not teachers, we do NOT get paid for vacation days. Our checks are spread throughout the year, but we are only paid for 182 days, no more, no less. But I’m not bothered by that either. What disturbs me is the change in identity.
Come summertime, I am “The Incredible Sleeping Woman.” I begin by steadily increasing my bedtime from 10 pm to 10:30, to 11 and so on until it becomes dawn before my head hits the pillow. I am very productive at night–if you call watching Star Trek reruns and scrapbooking productive that is. But this ruins all the work I’ve done over the last 5 months trying to become diurnal like the rest of the “normal” people out there. Remember, dirurnals think nocturnals are lazy, weak, and never get anything done. So, I’m changing my clock. Only, I’m not. Sure, I dragged my ass out of bed at 5:45 each weekday morning, but the dragging was a component. Diurnals leap out of bed several hours before having to get to work. They smile and soak in the fragrance of their shampoo. They read the paper, watch morning TV, and enjoy a balanced breakfast that has to be cooked or fried or grilled. They may even run some errands before arriving at work. For me? Dragging. Sagging. Limping. Dozing. Unwrapping breakfast in the form of a Fiber One Brownie–100 calories and chugging a Diet Pepsi hoping the cold on my throat will sting me to life.
So, now I’ve been on vacation for a week, but I was working in my classroom until Thursday. I got up at 8, and was at work by 9 dusting, sweeping, throwing stuff out, rearranging other stuff. So, really I’ve been on vacation since Friday. Each day I’ve gotten up before noon, but I haven’t managed to shower before noon, and so I go downstairs and sit on the couch, remote in hand, glued to the screen…
Thinking of how I’m going to get up earlier tomorrow and do–stuff. What will my identity be this vacation? Perhaps writer?