It's no wonder my brain turned to mush by Wednesday.
The upside to all of this exhaustion is that it gives me great blog fodder. Without further ado, here are some highlights, spoken by Yours Truly, in the week that was.
- On Wednesday, I addressed a small problem I'd seen on Tuesday in choir--a lack of confidence among some of my students, who feel we'll never be prepared for our upcoming concert on time. One song, in particular, was of concern to a couple of them, and as I addressed them on Wednesday, I reminded them that while it is written in four parts (SATB), it is, essentially, a two-part song, because the tenor line doubles the soprano line, and the bass line doubles the alto line. I gazed out at my students, and told them, "This song is totally putable togetherable." I stopped, and my jaw dropped a little. A couple of small giggles erupted in the peanut gallery. "Wow," I said slowly. "That is a new level of gibberish, even for me." More giggles escaped, including from me. Really, who wouldn't laugh? I think I lost a good five minutes of teaching time for that one.
- By Thursday, I was pretty much staring at the ceiling and making "bbbbbbbb" sounds with my lips. Tired doesn't even begin to cover it. Adding to my discomfort: a ripped contact lense in my dominant eye. Out came the lense, and bring on the lopsided vision. At the beginning of class, I stood at my conductor's podium, and let my kids know I felt a little loopy, wearing only one contact. Students who also wear them nodded understandingly, and a few supportive comments were made. So I sat at the piano to lead warm-ups, and found that looking out at my students was uncomfortable. Between exercises, I looked up and said, "I know I'm staring at my hands a lot today, but looking at you all is just painful." Again, my jaw dropped. I was met with silence. "Um. Yeah, that did not come out as I intended it to." A few giggles, a few eye rolls, an apology from the teacher, and, "Please, if you do tell your parents I said that in class today...can you also give them the context?"
- I lost track of how many times I told my kids to "have a seat" when they were already sitting, and to please stand up when they were already standing.
- And then there was Thursday morning, as I got ready to leave for another long-ass day, and Mom said, "Have a good day!" and I responded by starting to cry.
The good news is that I'm sitting here in my bedroom. The floors are done, my furniture is all put back, and I have a nice new desk, which Dad and I put together today. It's 8:30 and I'm going to bed in a few minutes because finally, finally, I'm at home to go to bed at a decent hour (I haven't been home before 10:00 any night this week).
Buenos noches, my friends.