When the nurse in your school says that you’re “dragging,” you know you’ve got the wall.

When the first thing you do when you enter the building is count down the hours until dismissal time the next day, you know you’re done.

When the second thing you do when you enter the building is correct the count down to dismissal today because you’re that damn tired, you know you’re done.

I planned to make it to Thursday. I saw the wall looming Monday. Yes. I already wrote about this.

But I kept slumping in my chair today because I didn’t have the strength to sit upright. I struggled to see and read and focus on words right in front of me.

I feel guilty.

I feel exhausted.

I feel guilty.

I feel exonerated.

I am going to write lesson plans tomorrow while sitting in my bed and wearing my pajamas.

I’m going to grade tomorrow and write letters of recommendation tomorrow while being surrounded by my dogs and drinking freshly brewed tea.

I still feel guiltily free in my decision. I’m helping on a field trip Friday. I’m not taking a long weekend. I’m just not planning on grading this Saturday or Sunday like I usually do.

Because I hit my wall and tested my forehead on it and felt its coolness temper my exhaustion. But this year, I won’t wail against the fatigue or cry out about the causes of my weariness.

Instead, I will side step them and push forward. Or step aside and find my quiet peace and pull on my pajamas and grade in my bed.

All while the wall recedes and the birds sing from its heights once more.