Three more weeks, and this first semester at my new college will be over. Good God, I’m ready for that. Don’t get me wrong — I like my job, teaching English at a community college. But even a person who doesn’t hate her job needs a real bona-fide sanity break, and I haven’t had one so far this year.
Spring 2006 was all about juggling six classes, weathering the weird politics at the old job, looking for a new job, and graduating by May. Summer 2006 was all about teaching all throughout the three months of summer, just in case the job interview didn’t pan out. Fall 2006 so far is all about fitting into the new job and being a newbie full-time faculty and team player: teaching seven classes, sitting on two committees, and jump-starting a dead student club. Throughout all of this, the household gets run, bills get paid, errands and chores happen.
Minus graduating in May and needing to find a new job, but adding in five to seven institutional services requirements (i.e., committees), the Hubby’s in the same boat.
I am spent. He is spent.
Three more weeks, and this semester will be over.
It can’t come quick enough.