This weekend was not glorious, nor was it all it should have been. It was fun, enjoyable, and certainly productive, but it wasn't what it should have been. Highlights:
1. Leaving work at noon on Friday (a student-free workday) to lunch and see a matinee with my husband
2. Momentous WW meeting Saturday morning (half-way to goal, people!)
3. Impromptu lunch and shopping with Heather on Saturday
4. A jaunt to Red Wing for Molly's annual wine-tasting where so much fun was had, I (like Molly and Chris) was sore the next morning (both from the wine and the infinite amounts of laughter)
5. The Vikings beat the Packers
6. Cleaning and grocery shopping and working out on Sunday made the weekend complete
But it was incomplete as well. I feel full right now. Mentally, physically full. There is too much to handle. It's as if no scrap of emotion can squeeze its way in; too much already exists. It is this feeling that made me snappy and crabby through all the fun of the weekend. On edge, my husband says. He feels it, too, but his pressures come from other directions. We pick at each other like children, annoyed with the smallest things. Perspective allows us to laugh at ourselves, but then not two hours later we pick again. We apologize and we're fine, but it's not nice. And it shouldn't continue. But the one person you feel most comfortable with inevitably becomes your sounding board and your whipping post. It is true for both of us. Something to work on, no doubt.
I have two pressures causing my conflicting self. The first is the impending speech season. With auditions next week and practice beginning after Thanksgiving, my vow to quit is long-gone and I'm not regretting it. I am, however, filled with nervous energy. I both dread and enjoy the next five months. But this is nothing compared to my grief. If you live in my region, you may have seen or read that we lost a student last week. Two sisters, a sophomore and a senior, were in a car accident. The senior's injuries were fatal; the sophomore, a beloved student of mine, will recover. Recover. I don't believe this is possible. She will wake up, be physically well, but how do you recover from losing your big sister? Dealing with this in the classroom, continuing day to day instruction as best as possible is SO hard. The funeral is tomorrow after school. Hard to be normal. Hard to feel joy. Conflict.
So, while this weekend was super, it was incomplete. Always in the back of my mind, pushing toward the front, this grief, this pressure. I am shaky all the time. I will cry many more times. It is just so much.