Unpolished: Daily Examen

Just a Stressful Teaching Dream

January 28, 2023

I am so ready for bed and it is only 7:57 pm.

This week and the weather have taken a lot out of me.

I even had a substitute teacher dream the other night.

Stressful work dreams have haunted me for years. I had them when I worked as a regular classroom teacher. Usually, those dreams had me standing in front of a room of sullen eighth graders with no lesson plan and no idea of how I was going to fill the hour.  I also vividly remember a nightmare I had while working at Cattlemen’s steak house as a waitress in the late 1990’s. In that dream, my section was so big, I could only get to my tables by driving around in a golf cart. There I was, frantically trying to refill people’s coffee and water and bring them more sourdough bread, all from my little cart. I’ve had a few stressful massage therapy oriented dreams, too. In these, I’m often back at a spa where I used to work, and I’m trying to get my table ready for a client, but the sheets won’t fit, or I can’t find an empty treatment room, and I am running so very late, and there is no way that I will be able to do my assigned massages, and my clients are sitting in their robes glaring at me, and the spa manager is livid.

In the substitute teaching dream I had the other night, I was trying to think of a “Would You Rather” question to ask during the morning attendance time, something which the regular teacher usually does as a way to wake everybody up and get them thinking and talking first thing.  In my dream, the question I formulated was: “Would you rather be with all your friends and not have electricity, or be at home with your electricity and Wi-Fi but not be able to see your friends?”

I never got to the point in my dream of actually asking anyone the question, though.

(My guess?  Electricity and Wi-Fi would win out over seeing friends in person.)

There is probably something in that dream that my spiritual director who is an expert in dream analysis would like to unpack with me.

It seems, though, that I am not sleeping the most soundly or getting the best rest if I am substitute teaching even in my dreams.

On a positive note, though? I saw many of the eighth graders that I’ve substituted for at our high school’s “Future Falcon/Welcome to Spring Semester Night” last week. It was my final one of these, since my son will be graduating in May. But it was the first one for these eighth graders, who are looking forward to high school next year. Every single one of them said hello! They were polite and seemed genuinely happy to see me. It made my night, and gave a sweet note to an evening that was also bittersweet for me, my final “Back to School” night. Over the years, it feels like these evenings will never end, that there will always be another Monday night when you have to rush through dinner and drive back to school to talk to teachers, get syllabi with their names and email addresses, listen to the chamber choir, watch the dance class perform, clap for the student body president who gives a little speech. And then? All of a sudden, it’s the last one, the end of a parenting era. It’s good, of course! We don’t want our kids to stay in high school forever.  But I’m realizing that I’m not quite ready for this season to end.

Power, Presence

When the Stars Align

January 14, 2023

I didn’t get Covid from the client I gave a massage to recently. I made it out of the “Covid Waiting Room” that I wrote about last week without any problems.

Didn’t have any trouble getting past the “Interstate Closed” blockade on I-80 last night. I watched other drivers try to sweet talk the Cal Trans workers to please let them pass. No luck. They had to wait (and wait. And wait.  Or give up and go home. As of this writing, the freeway has been closed for hours.)

Heavy snow. Heavy traffic. Holiday weekend. Big mess. This was a photo from a freeway camera Friday night of the MLK Jr holiday weekend. Which is why they closed the freeway the next day, when the weather got even worse. 

But me? I rolled down my window and said, “I live up the hill.” The Cal Trans fellow didn’t even check my ID (usually they do, because some people (believe it or not) lie about where they live in order to sneak past the closure).

He said, “I know you,” and yelled at the workers blocking the on ramp, “Let her through!”

I felt so special!

Also this week:

Didn’t have to wait at the Quick Lube oil change place. There were no other cars there when I pulled up! Just drove right in and was out of there quickly. Often, the “Quick Lube” is not so quick. This time it was.

Later that morning, I didn’t have to wait at AAA to pay my car registration fees, either. I was the only customer there, too. The only one! The receptionist said, “I won’t tell you to have a seat, because you wouldn’t be sitting for long.”

I remembered to return my returns at Costco (instead of driving around with them in the car for months).  There was no line at the customer service desk! If you have ever tried to return something to Costco in the weeks after Christmas, then you will appreciate what a treat that was.

All those little miracles took place on the same day. It was cool out, but the sun was shining for the first time in a while, and I had a chance to go to the park and walk a few laps around the half mile loop. Which helped me meet my daily steps goal for the first time this month.

(This year has not been very conducive so far to outdoor exercise.)

It was a break between storms day, a walk at the park day, a day when the stars aligned for me to get my errands done pleasantly and painlessly. It was a day I’ll try to remember, especially the next time I am at the end of a line that doesn’t seem to move.  It was a week when I didn’t get Covid, even after a risky exposure. It was a week when a kind Cal Trans worker helped me get home on a stormy night when the freeway was closed.