This morning I awoke, glimpsed the clock, and read 2:47. I began reciting in my mind all of the things I needed to do this week. Lately, more than ever, I feel my body hurtling through space. Every once in a while I catch a glimpse of the exit door and make my way for it, but as soon as I reach it, it has already whizzed past. And I find myself hanging on again, hoping to find where I put my other shoe, only to discover my shoe made it to the exit door without me.
I have taken on a little side job, in addition to my regular teaching duties, as well as another class to teach, while my biggest labor of love this year has been working to establish a study abroad program for students at our school and organizing fundraisers to pay for this new program, and the truth is - it is more work than I ever thought possible.
And when I think I might just crest this hill, I hear the rumblings of a group behind me, murmuring about what they would do differently, or what I should or should not do, and doubt fills my head, and I contemplate whether this really was a good idea in the first place, all the while remembering that I used to sleep.
I can feel the torches from the villagers in the next class.
When I look closely, I see those faces are the ones of friends, and I remember how hard this road is.
This is my furnace, this busy-ness, this fringe-living.
I have roughly 3 more weeks of crazy spinning and then, rest, for a while. Although, I don't think I'll ever see that shoe again.