Monday, March 19, 2012

Time Marches On

Somehow it is nearly the end of March.  I'm still trying to figure out where January went, and now it's almost time to say goodbye to March. 

Day after day goes by, packed with activities to the max.  Sometimes at the end of each day I feel like I'm shutting that junk closet - you know the one I'm talking about. The one where you have to push and shove and squeeze in that last item, and then quickly slam the door shut, sometimes even forcefully pushing it shut with your butt to get it to latch. 

Welcome to my life.

This week is the final week of my long-term substitute teaching position.  It is the third and final long-term job I have done in this particular classroom.  It's been so great to have this kind of consistency, as well as a school and classroom to call home.  I feel like I'm just beginning to figure out how this group of kids tick, and now it's time to go.  How has it flown by like this without my permission?  I'm not ready to be done!

Next week marks my final week at my marketing job.  I will have put in 2 years and 3 months at this job.  I've worked hard to take the position I started in and bring it to the next level.  I have done that, but I wonder if I will have adequate time to wrap up all of the open projects and leave good notes for the next person.  How can it be time to finish that position?

I have two weeks left with my kids in the remedial after-school program.  When I started working with them in November, I had high hopes to bring these 4th graders up a few grades in their reading levels.  I was going to run the best program EVER for them in reading and math!  They would be so smart and confident!  Now I don't know where our weeks went, but I feel like it would be an earth-shattering momentous occasion if I could just get them all reading at grade level.  Or even 3rd grade level.  Somehow the days flew by too quickly, and there hasn't been enough time to plan and do all of the things with them that I wanted to.

Each day closes before I'm ready.  It's sealed and stored away in the past, only to be remembered.  The new day that awaits me each morning seems too short at the onset, and continues to feel too short as the hours tick by.

How can one achieve greatness with so few hours in the day?

Perhaps it's an issue of expectations, and not time itself.

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