I hate Mondays

On most days, I love my job. Today was not one of those days.

Before 8am, people were telling me how tired I looked, and this was confirmed a few times during the day when others commented the same. A student in 9th period, after I ran my fingers through (what is left of) my hair, she said, "Oh, Mr. (Epiph). You always look so stressed out."

I've figured out why I always look so stressed out in her class. All those kids make me feel like I'm onstage. With 25 kids, I don't feel that way. But once my classes get up to 36 or 37, I feel all those eyes on me and feel myself tense up by not being able to walk between the desks because it's too crowded.

After school, I had to read a chapter for grad school and write a 1.5 page essay reflection. Somehow, I got to Towson U at 4:25pm, and was able to rattle off the essay (after skimming the appropriate section) in a half hour and turn it in on time. I just got my book delivered on Saturday, so I have a moderately okay excuse. I decided that Sunday would be better spent creating my lessons for the week.

Class sucked, but at least it was short; she let us out at 6:45 instead of 7:30. I've never done a grad class during the school year before and it's challenging - and I haven't even done any work yet. I was cheered up a little when I ran to the Towson bookstore (I finally purchased my coursepack) during my break and saw a kid I coached for four years in the Union, hanging out with a girl I had in the 9th grade. Great kids, big smiles - they're enjoying their freshmen year of college.

I'm now at home, and considering going to bed in the next few minutes. The thing is, the most important baseball series for my Tigers in arguably 19 years begins in approximately 25 minutes. Oh, dilemmas...