It’s September. I’ve officially dropped off the social map. If you’ve seen me in the past three weeks it’s because you’re one of my students or coworkers . . . or really lucky.
I’ve overheard teachers saying:
“I went to bed at 8pm last night.”
“Everyday my throat is killing me by noon.”
“I’ve been to Staples three times today.”
Or maybe that’s just me, saying those things. That’s another thing about September, I don’t remember who I’ve said what to, because everything I say, I say multiple times.
It’s exhausting at best. I want to blog more often; I want to read more often, but I can barely keep my eyes open once I reach the front door to my house.
Yet, for all the exhaustion, September holds its own romance. New routines are established, friendships are formed, the air turns cool, and my classroom becomes my favorite place to be.
We’re only halfway through September, I don’t want to label it exhaustion— it’s just not fair to say that’s what I get from September. At halfway through, I’m labeling September: Promise, Possibility, and Potential— and I’m holding onto that till October.