Earlier I was talking to Alan's mom on the phone and she mentioned something about going to work tomorrow. As soon as the words "going to work" popped up, I had that tinge of dread that you get sometimes when you realize your weekend is gone and tomorrow it's back to the grind. I hadn't felt that yet on a Sunday night with the whole teaching thing, and it depressed me for about 10 minutes that here it was already. Don't you hate that? Let's say you feel it at around 6:00 p.m. You still have a good 4-5 hours of your weekend left, but now you get to spend it dreading the next day.
I don't dread going there, so I can't figure it out. Maybe it's that each week I have to add more to my plate or maybe it's that Tuesday I'll be observed and evaluated again. Consciously I feel fine about all of that, so why does that impending doom hang around?
So then I started thinking about how bad Sunday evenings used to be when Alan had to head back to Levelland every weekend. Funny how perspective can make your current situation seem so much simpler and brighter. I'm not sleeping alone this Sunday night, and I kind of like it this way.
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