For better or worse, I am a creature that takes comfort in routines. School began again today, at least for us teachers, and I found myself enjoying the familiarity of my environment and the tasks. Go to work, forget to eat lunch, carpool home, work out, grab dinner, and get ready for work again the next day.
I am squeezing in a little bit more summer with one last trivia session tonight. Tomorrow's a work day, which means an extra hour of sleep in the morning. At least that's how I'm justifying the trivia outing. Really, I probably should take the extra hour of sleep since anxiety kept me up half the night last night, leading me to then slept right through my "Wake up" alarm. Fortunately my "Get out the door" alarm woke me up, giving me exactly five minutes to fling off the covers, throw on clothes, brush my teeth, wash my face, pull my hair into a ponytail and throw a can of dry shampoo and my eye makeup into my school bag to attend to later.
I made it to my carpool in time, but oversleeping is perhaps not the most auspicious way to begin the new year.
Other than that, the day went just about as expected. Faculty meetings, hordes of emails to attend to, big classes, field trips and plays to schedule, and four angry phone calls waiting for me on my voicemail. Same old, same old.
I put out the fires, did my job, and then came home to get ready to go back and do it again. But as I stood there in my kitchen packing my lunch and my breakfast and my dinner for tomorrow (Back to School night), I noticed that while routines can be comforting, sometimes they make you feel like you never left.
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