Monday, November 28, 2016

Dream a littler dream

I can’t be the only person out there who regularly dreams about work.

The day after Thanksgiving I decided to take a well-deserved nap after an exhausting morning of shoveling in some of the pie I neglected to eat the night before.  (All that digesting really takes it out of you).  I fell asleep quickly and dreamed that I was working on a project with two other teachers, in which we had to find commonalities between Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.  The clues I was given were rhyming clues: “An egg that will hatch/A color to match/A tire to patch.”

Yeah, I couldn’t figure it out either, and my group was being timed.  I woke up in a panic, thinking that I needed to re-assess the project I already had for freshman English.  Then I panicked, even more, when I realized that we were reading Julius Caesar, and there’s no way I could find rhyming clues for that one.

I know we teachers teach in our sleep.  As I’m also married to another teacher, I’ve often heard him trying to explain scoring rubrics to a group, or else he’s lecturing Eric on how he’s going to lose that phone if he doesn’t put it away.  He says he’s heard me complain about grading deadlines to a principal as I snoozed. 

While I think this is pretty common in almost any job, sometimes I wonder if it’s just hard to put our teaching personas away.  I know that the other day I was having lunch with two non-teacher friends (yes, I have some) and they asked me some school or education-related question.  They both said I turned to the side and started to gesture at something while enunciating my words very clearly.  I’m glad they got a kick out of it, but I was completely unaware.  What I was aware of was the need to come up with good follow up questions for them to make sure they understood.  

I need to get a life, preferably one outside a classroom.  I'm trying, truly I am.


It’s the dreaming about the classroom that irks me.  I need my time off just like everyone else.  But it seems like I can’t escape even in my sleep.  By the way, what rhymes with “ides of March?”