To Sir, with Bacon and Ham

The end of the school year is always fraught with trouble. There are endless assessments, exams you might call them, cumulative folders need filling in, report cards, yadayada; a big mountain that I managed scaling incrimentally over 2 weeks time minimizing the effects of stress and overwork and yet I still jumped headfirst into “Crazyville Canyon”. I can gloat my dear reader, weeks off to watch the glutes atrophy, but I won’t. We all bear professional crosses and mine is to teach, not more or less important than any of yours.

What I won’t apologize for is the time off. For however many weeks on end (it varies if you’re on a traditional or year-round-school calendar) I put on a daily 6 hour reality show that isn’t televized, and makes no money if the audience doesn’t show up. It has one executive producer, thousands of producers, but one writer (myself). The audience participates to varying levels or degrees, and much of the time is spent on reviewing what was learned the previous years. I’m not complaining, it is an honorable profession and if anything I am an honorable man or at least I try. It is a profession that drives good people to an all-encompassing burnout, and I won’t add myself to that list.

Which is why I will sit at home most days and sleep till 11. I will finish my mediocre American novel about finding love in all the e-places. I will enjoy the time I have with my girlfriend. I will see more films on my top 100 AFI films of all time. I will travel, preferably on my bike as gas is too expensive. I will lose 10 pounds before the new year starts.

Most importantly I will see my kids because everything takes a back seat there. Especially teaching.