I’m so tired, I haven’t slept a wink,
I’m so tired, my mind is on the blink.
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink.
No, no, no.
I’m so tired I don’t know what to do.
I’m so tired my mind is set on you.
I wonder should I call you but I know what you’d do.
You’d say I’m putting you on.
But it’s no joke, it’s doing me harm.
You know I can’t sleep, I can’t stop my brain
You know it’s three weeks, I’m going insane.
You know I’d give you everything I’ve got
For a little peace of mind.
I’m so tired, I’m feeling so upset
Although I’m so tired I’ll have another cigarette
And curse Sir Walter Raleigh.
He was such a stupid git.
Who was that? I hate it when other people channel my blog. I gave a presentation at work tonight. On the plus side, it was well-received. Everyone keeps talking about all the work I do. As opposed to what? I thought that was my job. I have had jobs that involved more paper-pushing. I hate that kind of thing. I hate involving myself in any way with student records.
On the way to work this morning I was thinking about my two-year tenure as a middle school teacher. Those of you that can do that job, I admire you. You are few in number. I am so glad it’s behind me. Even if I had to teach pronoun/antecedent agreement every day in high school, it would be worth it to stay out of middle school. When I think back on my own middle school days, I recall them as the most traumatic period of my life. I wouldn’t go back for all the world. No wonder the kids are impossible at that age.
I keep looking at the calendar. I am doing the end-of-year-teacher-freakout dance right now. Do you know I just reached the 20th century in American Lit.? We are hitting the most major of major points, and that is all. Don’t even get me started on how much I need to do with 9th grade.
I wish I knew for sure what I was teaching next year. I have some tweaking to do, whatever it is. I can’t spend three weeks on summer reading ever again, that’s for sure.
I read my students an article from a National Council of Teachers of English publication called English Journal about how perilous teaching English is. We all have our favorite books. Maybe even that book that made us want to teach. I cannot truthfully say that is true for me. I loved literature, period. I didn’t have one book that made teaching English a done deal. That was due to my high school English teacher. After I started teaching, I read The Great Gatsby, and it became that one book. The book. The one I hold the others up to. The benchmark. Ever since then, it makes me nervous to teach it. And this year, I thought, why not share that with the kids?
Fellow readers, if you were an English teacher (or even if you are one, Jennifer and Dana) which book would/does make you nervous to teach? Why?
I feel like Linda Richman. I might even be getting all verklempt.