Weariness

I have a lot of my classroom packed into large storage boxes and stacked all over the place. It's too depressing for words. As yet, there's no place to move the boxes to since the actual move hasn't begun, so I'm stuck staring at those boxes and brooding. I wish the move were done. I hate this displacement, this time between the ending of one thing and the beginning of another. I hate for my "nest" to be disturbed. I know that soon enough, the big day will come and I'll have to get everything out of the old room for the last time and be a little sad about it, but right now, I am so unbelievably tired that all I want to do is get everything somewhere for good and sleep for about a week.

I'm past the point of just worn out. The end of school rush to get all the summer reading assignments prepared, typed up, and distributed, to get all my grades finished, entered, and proofed, to get the bookroom cleaned out and prepared for storage, and the hundred other little things that are cropping up are killing me. That's why I haven't been writing here much, either.

I don't have anything left for the little stupidities of life, either. A perfect example was when I came home this afternoon to find water pouring from my meter box. An absolute river was cutting through my yard to my house. I was too tired to even feel panic. I just went in, found this month's water bill, called them, and told them to come fix it. I could barely summon up enough concern about the whole thing to even wonder when it broke. I don't think it was like that this morning, but it was raining so hard that it might have been. Who knows?

Well, I'm going to bed. At least I managed to get something like a blog posted. It's not good, but it's something. Maybe that's progress.