I find myself staring out the windows more and more lately. My eyes droop a little bit, because I have been having those classic anxiety-ridden school dreams that I get every year at about this time that make me wake up several times each night. I stare out the windows because it is too hot to turn on the oven and bake, and in the mornings I have been working on a few Prezi's to get the school year started. By the time the afternoons hit, I have run out of energy ... and the coffee pot is empty.
I stare out the windows because each and every year a wave of anxiety shoots through me and I get very numb. There's a character named "Haywire" in the defunct television show Prison Break. He is a bit of the loony-tunish nature and needs medicine to keep him from going over the edge. He sits, stares, drools. That's me when I get these anxiety attacks. You wouldn't necessarily know I was having an attack unless you caught me allegedly daydreaming. If I am daydreaming, I am having an emotional breakdown somewhere deep inside. I am hopefully not drooling.
So my latest attack is the same every year:
You've forgotten how to teach.
You can't teach!
How could you possibly get back in there again? You don't even know where to begin.
And the loop repeats. Sometimes the loop says things that are harsher and possibly worthy of Mean-Girl status, and it is amazing that when I am disturbed out of this circle of doom, I pray that I don't have the Haywire-like drool. It's so embarrassing.
Besides the anxiousness to get back to school at around this time, I also feel the creeping fingers on my shoulders of this fretfulness, the need for naps, the need for slobber rags, and the need to set fire to this self-trash talk. The only thing I can really do to combat these feelings is claim war on it.
Shop in the crack-aisle of Walmart!: SCHOOL SUPPLIES!
Do you know what school supplies do to my heart? Do you know how high those sweet multi-color packs of STUFF send my blood sugars? My heart goes all a-flitter. My hands shake. My knees knock. And just as Scarlett O'Hara said, "Fiddle-dee dee! War, war, war; this war talk's spoiling all the fun at every party this spring. I get so bored I could scream. Besides ... there isn't going to be any war."
That's right, Scarlett. There isn't going to be any war (in my head), because I have already won it.
You've forgotten how to teach ... unless I get this brand new multi-level, multi-pouch purple binder that can fold out and become a double-wide RV!
You can't teach ... that's right! I can't teach without these new slotty thingies that will hold all of my ... whatever!
How could you possibly get back in there again without a brand new set of pens, pencils, markers of EVERY friggin' color known to man and some animals (you know who you are).
You don't even know where to begin without a brand-new calendar with every religion known to mankind clearly marked and annotated!
As you can see, I have everything under control for the most part (there is that drooling problem). And as Scarlett would say: "No, I do not teach just for the school supplies. As God is my witness!"