Woke up last Friday feeling empty and out of sorts. No particular reason, I think it's just that time of year - like mile 21 of the marathon... where's the finish line already??! Am I STILL doing this? Is it really going to end as they promised?
It's so easy to love my job in the summer -- I remember thinking last year, as I rode down a dusty road far far far from New York City, you'd have to be crazy not to be a teacher! I can't believe I'm being paid to be on vacation for two months!
And in the fall you can love it too, there's possibilities and potential to get excited about, sharp pencils and juicy new markers.
But your drive and ambition get spottier towards the end of the year, as you're worn down to a nub, and pencils are short, chewed-up, blunt and eraserless and all the markers are either dried up or lost.
And you're still in the boat rowing and rowing though your arms are getting tired and the shore doesn't seem to be getting any closer, at least not with any discernable speed.
What can you do?
Just keep showing up to work, I guess, one foot in front of the other. You make the most of your weekends and afternoons. Try to outrun your dispassion. Make plans for next year. Maybe a mental health day is in order, too. Drink sangria and sit in the sun. And you keep leaning on your friends.
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