I am posting before the 5:30 class tonight. It's been a stressful day, and when it's over, I think I'm going to want to get off campus as soon as possible. It's been a day about veterinary care for my cat: I went from vet A to vet B (an emergency/specialty facility), dashed from there to teach the 1:00 class, dashed back, had to wait forever, had to make a lot of difficult decisions (though I should hasten to mention that the cat is by no means at death's door; he just has a chronic condition that's deteriorating, and we're trying to figure out treatment options), and just got back to campus with enough time to check e-mail and write this blog post before I teach again.
Needless to relate, my mind is not on my teaching today. This will not be one of those days when I walk out of the classroom thinking, "I do this very well sometimes." It will be one of those days when I walk out of here thinking, "If I don't come back to campus tomorrow, how much hell will that cause me further down the road."
If I come back to campus tomorrow (after retrieving the cat and taking him home), I will post again. If I don't, I may be in the "I have to bail on Advisement" trajectory way way way earlier than usual.
I keep reminding myself: in five years, none of this will matter. In five years, there will be other things occupying my mind and time and energy. Never mind five years: that will be true in five months. I don't know how things will work out, but no one ever does, really.
Now I have time to look carefully at what I've packed up to take to class, make sure I have everything I need, buy a bottle or two of water (because I left my "lunch" bag at home when I went to vet A, foolishly thinking I'd have time to get home again before coming to campus, so my water bottles are beside my front door), and do something that approximates teaching.
"Stop the World: I Want to Get Off" certainly applies right at the moment. Thank you Anthony Newley. (And good night, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.)