I think you need to be a teacher in order to truly understand the simultaneous joy and horror of taking a personal day. Here I am, sitting on the couch, relaxed and enjoying a quiet moment at 9:00 in the morning on a weekday. I’m dressed, hair and make-up done, packed and ready to go to Maine for a long weekend to see my mom’s cousin get married. It’s so nice to have been able to sleep in (till 7, anyway) and take my time getting ready.
However, as content as I am right now, there’s always that part of my brain saying, “it’s 9:00. They’re about to start math right now. Is everything going okay at school? Are the kids behaving? Does the sub have any idea of what she is doing?!”
I shouldn’t worry. I’m entitled to enjoy a day off, aren’t I? I took a couple of hours to prep for being out. I left plenty of work for the class to do, and (I’m sure you’re surprised at this) left 5 pages of sub plans with detailed notes about anything and everything that could happen.
There’s one episode of Spongebob (yes, I watch it, and yes, I love it. I make up for my poor television choices with excellent books, however) that always reminds me of myself. You know, the one where Mr. Krabs has to go to the hospital and leaves Squidward in charge? Squidward thinks he can get away with a relaxing day off by letting Spongebob run the Krusty Krab. But no matter what, he’s too paranoid about what could happen at work that he can’t relax. Hello, truth.
Ah, well. These feelings will subside soon enough. After all, once 2:25 comes, the kids will have been dismissed and I can’t worry about anything anymore except having a wonderful weekend!