The Sloth

That is my new name.

I have always struggled with extremes. Either I eat like a bird and exercise all the time or I eat nothing but hamburgers and win endurance awards for sitting on my rear. Either I run around my classroom teaching the heck out of everything or I sit at my desk, staring into space, praying for the bell to ring.

Happy medium is a foreign concept to me. Always has been. Just call me all-or-nothing girl. Seriously, that'd be my super hero persona: here she is to save the day...or not. Who knows?

Well, I am currently in the sloth stage of my activity pendulum. Before I ended class last week, I was on fire. I cranked out 70 pages for my master's project, set up meetings, was an email dynamo, and taught the heck out of Julius Caesar and Romeo and Juliet.

I put all my eggs in one basket.

I spent all my nickels at the fair.

I am done.

Now, a measly week later, the Julius Caesar tests still need to be graded. I have a stack of rough drafts to mark up. My desk looks like a paper morgue. And I need to get cracking on a proposal to my principal. I actually have to start implementing all the stuff I said I would in those lovely 70 pages.

Ugh.

This weekend I am going to revel in my slothness. Em is gone with her grandparents. Justin and I are going to try to see Star Trek. I did bring some grading home, but I have a feeling it'll probably stay put in my bag til Monday.

Hey, I can always be active later, right?