How am I supposed to get anything done today if it is going to be such a glorious sit-on-the-porch rainy day?
I can count on one hand the number of days before I report back for the new school year. I have a to-do list of to-do lists and I have been dutifully checking my way through them. I am. I am not in a panic (meds are so helpful!) but I have “set my face toward Jerusalem” and acknowledge that summer ends for me next week.
Next week, there will be no more coffee hours on the porch and lengthy sessions with my journal. In fact, there will be little coffee consumption because I won’t have time to drink it or empty my bladder afterwards.
Next week, I will resume my vitamin D supplements as I wake up in the dark to spend the bulk of daylight hours indoors with my classroom air purifier humming by my desk.
Next week, my days will be divided into minutes and even my peeing will be regulated by a bell. In contrast, this week my time is divided into chunks roughly corresponding to morning, afternoon, and evening, but more accurately designated as unproductive me-time, productive me-time, and binge-watching me-time.
Don’t get me wrong. I am quite ready to be back at work. I need the stimulation and the structure and the purpose. I need the schedule. The responsibility of deciding what to do everyday in summer when the possibilities are endless—it is getting to be too big of a burden.
And so, in the spirit of returning to work, I turn to my to-do lists.
But there are few things more precious than a rainy day on the screen porch rocking in my glider. My only hope for today is for the sun to come out.
And, for the moment, it has.
But a most beautiful, puffy, ginormous cumulous cloud is sailing by in an azure sky…
Weather bulletin:a tornado watch is in effect until 8 p.m. A tornado might just get me off this porch.