Some of my bloggiest moments (when I REALLY have a lot to say and want to write about it) usually come on nights before I have to sub. For me that is usually not an option because of my fear of oversleeping. Let me just tell you that I had a week of near misses towards the end of February, and I didn't even write the nights before. I still have chills thinking about it, but here's the story:
I live down country, in my grandma's house, the house that raised me. *insert heart emoticon* How far down country am I? Let me put it to you like this: I have NO LESS than a 20 minute drive to get to the nearest convenience store for gas or a pack of Nabs. (Google it, city slickers. We country mice already know what Nabs are.) The schools I choose to work at are at least a 30 minute drive for me; there is nothing closer. If I selected all of the elementary schools in the county--and I wish I could have, for more experience--there would be days that I'd have an hour drive to and from school. NOPE. When I'm on my way home from school in the afternoon, I get what I need to get while the getting is good because I AIN'T going back out of the house, except in case of medical emergencies...or the occasional nicotine fit.
I set 2 alarms for school: A standard battery powered clock and my cell phone. The clock is set for 5:45am, but my actual rise-n-shine time is 6:15am at the latest. I never actually get up and hop in the shower before 6:15. That early alarm buys me 30 minutes of "Lawd Jesus, WHY can't I win the lottery?!?!" time. Even though I love subbing, those years spent in retail hell--especially the last few leading up to my firement--have scarred me. The sound of my alarms triggers Pavlovian feelings of dread no matter what the alarm is for.
So for 2 days straight, I woke up at 7am!!!! That's the time when I'm usually moisturizing, getting dressed, and taking my rollers out of my hair! My survival--or LAWD-JESUS-I-CAN'T-GET-FIRED-FROM-THIS-JOB-TOO--instinct kicked in. I managed to get myself ready and out the door in 30 minutes, you know, normal people time. It usually takes me an hour because I putter and daydream, but I nipped that in the bud on those 2 days and got to school on time! Woo!
I live down country, in my grandma's house, the house that raised me. *insert heart emoticon* How far down country am I? Let me put it to you like this: I have NO LESS than a 20 minute drive to get to the nearest convenience store for gas or a pack of Nabs. (Google it, city slickers. We country mice already know what Nabs are.) The schools I choose to work at are at least a 30 minute drive for me; there is nothing closer. If I selected all of the elementary schools in the county--and I wish I could have, for more experience--there would be days that I'd have an hour drive to and from school. NOPE. When I'm on my way home from school in the afternoon, I get what I need to get while the getting is good because I AIN'T going back out of the house, except in case of medical emergencies...or the occasional nicotine fit.
I set 2 alarms for school: A standard battery powered clock and my cell phone. The clock is set for 5:45am, but my actual rise-n-shine time is 6:15am at the latest. I never actually get up and hop in the shower before 6:15. That early alarm buys me 30 minutes of "Lawd Jesus, WHY can't I win the lottery?!?!" time. Even though I love subbing, those years spent in retail hell--especially the last few leading up to my firement--have scarred me. The sound of my alarms triggers Pavlovian feelings of dread no matter what the alarm is for.
So for 2 days straight, I woke up at 7am!!!! That's the time when I'm usually moisturizing, getting dressed, and taking my rollers out of my hair! My survival--or LAWD-JESUS-I-CAN'T-GET-FIRED-FROM-THIS-JOB-TOO--instinct kicked in. I managed to get myself ready and out the door in 30 minutes, you know, normal people time. It usually takes me an hour because I putter and daydream, but I nipped that in the bud on those 2 days and got to school on time! Woo!
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