So, I'm teaching summer school. Technically it's not summer school for grade equivalence, but still I teach reading classes to angsty middle schoolers and high schoolers and even some elementary schoolers. (While I think it is wonderful discussing literature, there are only so many times I can sound out C-A-T phonetically before I begin to question my own grasp of phonics.) It occurred to me today that I am in danger of becoming that frumpy teacher. You know the one. Everyone has had a frumpy, beige-ish teacher. This frumpy quotient is not related so much to how I teach or how I dress; although, I suppose those are factors. No, it boils down to what I eat. I'm haunted by a line from the miniseries My So Called Life. If you were going through puberty in the mid-to-late-nineties, I'm sure you've heard of it. The main character, Angela was Clare Daines's breakout role. At one point, Angela has a meeting with her English teacher, while the teacher is trying to bolt a limp, soggy sandwich at her desk between classes. And Angela's inner monologue, voice over tells us: "It's just too depressing, to not only think about the fact that teachers eat, but to have to see them eat."
This is what I think about when I bolt my lunch right before I spend two and a half hours teaching Lord of The Rings. Well, that and why I'm not a hobbit.
Anyway, this was a long way to explain that my summer teaching schedule is finally solidified, and my life is back to a steady, albeit, frumpy routine. With that said, for the rest of the summer, I'm going to have an official blog schedule. Look for postings on Wednesdays and Fridays. Find out what I'm actually packing in my lunch box.