In the fridge, a bottle of champagne lies on its side.Â In about ten minutes, Scott will open it, and he and I will drink.Â We will drink and drink.Â We just might drink until the whole bottle is gone.
Why the celebration?
Because I am on summer vacation.
No amount of caps or exclamation points can capture the pure unmitigated euphoria that I feel at this thought.Â I have graded my last essay, wiped the last bit of writing off of the whiteboard, dealt with my last bit of surly teenage attitude, and I am ready to pop the cork and just gloat with the fabulousness of it all.
It’s been a hard year.Â Â If you’ve been reading this blog for the last nine months or so, you know that I’ve had moments when I was ready to throw in the towel and get a job doing — well, pretty much anything else.Â Â But now I have two months to tend to those other, non-teacher parts of myself.Â The mom part.Â The wife part.Â The lover part (yes, those last two go together).Â The writer and pray-er and gardener parts.Â It’s not that teaching doesn’t give me satisfaction — it does, most of the time.Â But I’m ready to re-direct the massive amount of energy that teaching requires, to redirect it into all those other wonderful channels, to light them up and get them glowing and humming again.
But first: the champagne.