Sunday afternoons can be a mixed joy and curse. In some respects, these are the hours which stretch themselves out like a cat luxuriating in the sunlight. The back elongates, one foreleg goes forward, the paw articulates and each claw is a pronounced hook. Repeat the process with each leg, one precarious balancing act at a time, and you have Sunday afternoon on a warm, early fall day.
Sunday afternoon can also be much like my dog when his playful side comes out: hyper active with speed running from one side of the house to the other, jumping on beds and doing the play bow to get our attention, galloping down the stairs with thumping footsteps. This sense of activity that must be exhausted before we finally shout at him: “Lay down! Go to bed!” or my husband and I tell the kids to get the dog out of the house before he rips everything apart.
Come on, my dog’s name is Loki. What do you expect?
Of course, that question could be turned around on me, but since I’m the one writing this post, I won’t allow the question to be turned around on me.
Sunday afternoons are those long, quiet moments that beg the body to relax because work is around the corner. But, because work is around the corner and due to the nature of my job, I really should be getting grading done. And, right now, I easily have twelve inches of summer reading assignments sitting either in my teacher-bag or on my teacher-desk at school.
And that doesn’t include the 130 thesis/sub-thesis combinations that are being edited in various google documents right now.
Or the quick and easy grading that might be sitting in a folder in my bag. I can’t remember if I actually took that stuff up.
Tomorrow, my tenth graders and I are going to discuss the social hierarchy of the Medieval society with the intent of understanding a basic community with its morals and identities and complex social structures and belief structures. In doing so, for the year, we are going to chart how societies change and why they change with the intent of analyzing just how far we have adapted, charged, or evolved in the last seven hundred years. I think this will be a fascinating experiment.
I hope the students will too.
And I need to finish re-researching this information because I read this material four months ago and my memory is about on point as a dull, blown-out candle wick.
Does this mean I’m smokin’ hot?
Hee hee hee! I ran six miles today. Allow me the moment to giggle at myself.
Friday afternoon/night, the family and I refer to this as drool day. We are allowed to come home and drool on ourselves because we are so exhausted from the week. No housework is done on Friday. I may or may not go to the gym on Friday afternoons (frequently, that is a hell no). Usually, Friday nights is when I allow myself my cheat food (even though I’m not really being all that great on my diet, but…yeah. Never mind). Two nights ago (Friday night), I fell asleep at 8:30 at night. I had been in bed for over thirty minutes. I had been in my pajamas for nearly two hours. I was just so tired.
Saturday, I try to catch up with various chores around the house, spend time with my family, exercise, do some gardening. If I can, I will go to West Virginia to my property. Now that I have re-fallen in love with hiking, I want to hit the trails, especially before the temperatures plummet and we have weekly rain/snow storms (rain where I live, snow in the mountains). Saturday, I go to church. Saturday, I might try and get some grading done but will usually tell myself, hey, there’s always Sunday.
Sunday, grocery shopping, gym time (today I ran eight miles…woo hoo!), and prepare for the week. Laundry. Make dinners (if I can). Get all the right things in all the right staging areas. Check email (even though I told my students I don’t check my email over the weekends). Read Postsecret.com. Read. Write.
Sometimes. Not always. Because I love the quiet hours of the Sunday afternoon but, at the same time, my heart is thudding in my stomach with the ice-anxiety worms reminding me that I haven’t done my work that I should be getting done.
But it’s the weekend and I love this moment when I am sitting on my front porch swing and the wind is stirring the trees. Ugly-Cat is debating whether or not she wants to jump up on the porch so she can get in my lap and walk across the computer keyboard. Loki alternates between standing on the porch right where Ugly-Cat wants to jump to going down to where she is sitting by the porch so he can sniff her and encourage her to come up on the porch so that he might have a fit of jealousy and try to chase her off the porch because even though he can not fit in my lap anymore, I am still his favorite possession.
It’s a complicated relationship. I can handle it.
In the distance, two cats are spatting at one another. I feel like I should get my hose or the biggest squirt gun in my house and go settle the argument Gracelesscurran style….immediately.
Because this is my Sunday afternoon during which time I enjoy my well-deserved rest. But this rest will create a grading deficit which will create the anxiety that will last for the next two weeks as I try and get through the rest of the summer-reading assignments before I start taking up the first round of essays. Or edit the seniors’ college entry essays. Or edit the sophomores first real round of literary analysis paragraphs.
I would write more, but Ugly-Cat is sitting next to me and staring at my fingers, obviously preparing for the invasion of the keyboard. And I have about four more hours until Fear the Walking Dead will come on. It’s time to pet the cat and then maybe….maybe…grade some papers.