I'm cautiously optimistic that spring finally has sprung.
We've needed this. Oh, we've needed this badly. I've reached the uppermost limits of my patience and good graces with games of indoor tag and children despondently flopping themselves on the couch. I'm past the 30 degree mornings when I need to cram my hands into my jacket pockets because I refuse to be wearing gloves just out of spite. I'm terribly bored with my winter wardrobe. There's about seven pounds of winter dirt that needs to be swept off our garage floor. The minivan needs a thorough cleaning both inside and out. And the yard -- the yard need some loving.
It's finally getting warm enough to rectify all of this.
The only glitch is that I'm in the throes of the final weeks of the semester, and this prevents me from launching into the massive spring cleaning escapades that I've plotted. Students seem to be determined to keep submitting assignments (ones that I've assigned, mind you), which suggests that I need to be determined to keep grading them.
It's a vicious cycle.
The good news is that after operating on a university-schedule for eight years, I've developed an internal clock that indicates when I'm nearing the end of a semester. It works the opposite of a sea turtle's navigation system, though, meaning that I become more disoriented when it kicks in. I wake up uncertain of which day of the week it is. My mind becomes like a bulletin board covered with post-it notes with a high-powered oscillating fan blowing on it. Every thought is flapping in the breeze, dangerously loose, capable of being whisked away and eternally forgotten.
To compensate, I begin writing things down on actual post-it notes, which I place in locations so safe that not even I can find them when I'm looking for them.
And yet, miraculously, we'll all hold together and finish the semester, at which point I'll search for my spring to-do lists, roll up my sleeves, and get to an entirely different kind of work.
What aspect of spring are you most looking forward to these days?