Every Sunday night, I get a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. As I sit on the couch, either watching television or reading or grading, the same old nervousness creeps into my body as Monday inches closer and closer. Even as early as Sunday mornings, I am dreading the 5:45 a.m. wake-up call the next day that will pull me out of the warmth of my bed and into the grips of my students.
I am not sure why this trepidation has set in. While Mondays have never been my favorite day of the week, I have never really dreaded them either. And I don’t know if I necessarily DREAD Mondays, now either. In all honesty, they are not much different from any other day of the week (well, except the lovely Friday). Usually Mondays are spent with a bit more review than other days, and the glazed look in my students’ (and some teachers) eyes is a bit more pervasive. However, compared to any other day, the routine is the same, the periods are the same, and my energy spent is the same.
I’m trying to get to the point where I look forward to the start of the week. I am trying to get to the point where I feel really excited about going to school. However, some days I am so stressed out that I cannot help but long for Fridays and dread Mondays. I hope that this calms down after this first year or so, because it really stinks not wanting to go to your job every week. And that’s not why I got into teaching; in fact, it’s the very opposite. I want to teach because I like it – most parts – and I know that some day I could love it. But it’s taking me longer to get there than I would have hoped.
So when your alarm goes off tomorrow morning, and the sky is still as black as night, and you curse under your breath and say, “I can’t believe it’s Monday already,” know that I will be right there with you. And for now, I guess we just need to be grateful that Mondays only come around once a week.