Jonathan‘s taking Europe. Greg‘s taking Africa. Todd‘s turning Japanese. Dana‘s got a book club running. Scott‘s got his resolutions. Robert‘s got too many bullet points to summarize in a sentence.

If I’ve ever commented on your blog I’d like to see a full rundown of your summer plans on my desk by the end of the week. Or on your blog if that’s more convenient for you.

My abbreviated list:

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Due to a slight scheduling whoopsie, this week I’ll be playing both the part of a) your beleaguered full-time math teacher wrapping up his year and b) your ebullient summer camp videographer.  No one’s exactly sure how this one’s gonna look but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t involve much blogging.  I’ve got a long-form post ready to drop on y’all later this afternoon, but after that things are gonna be a bit light around here.

1. I only play for cash stakes.
2. I failed the pee test.
3. I’m too old to mix it up with you kids.

I may have left readers of a previous post with the impression that I’ve arrived at this place of “total, psychological, and emotional self-control.” Sorry about that. Part of me figured I had. However, as much as I’ve reckoned with my own high schooling and its effect on my classroom posture, I realized on Wednesday that I have never reconciled the stigma of growing up real tall in high school while lettering in varsity tennis.

That was weird.

I’m gonna get over it, though, and play in the student-faculty basketball game next year, if only because all those teachers crashing around out there against most of the senior class, chasing loose balls like greased pigs after headless chickens (or something), looked like too much fun to let decade-old insecurities interfere.

Postscript: Also underscoring the difference between the teacher I want to be and the teacher I am is one of my earlier posts, a post from back when my readership was well contained by the walls of my childhood home. I wish I had waited to post it now, because it was and still is, as the post’s please-kick-me title states, The Truest Stuff I’ve Ever Watched or Written.

Woulda Been: “Chris Is Concerned,” But That Theme’s Played Out

Thanks for the discussion this weekend. I’ve gotta acknowledge straight off how grateful I am and how cool it’s been that a bunch of vets would take the time to wander by and register their concern for my stress level and blood pressure.

Some highlights for me:

Jonathan‘s comment that the more I invest in lessons this year, the harder they’ll be to scrap next year even when experience demands a fresher approach. That’s a new (and consequently invaluable) lesson. I’ll try to stay vigilant but, frankly, if I scrapped half the lessons I made this year (a broad estimate) even that 50% savings would make next year downright lazy.

Jen‘s point that a blogger’s job-hating, stressed-out post quantity oughtta correlate pretty neatly with his actual job-hate and stress, a metric that feels intuitively right to me and by which I seem to be doing fine.

Chris‘ concern for my relationship with my yet-to-be-born-or-conceived kid, concern which reflects kinda sweetly on his relationship with his own boys.

The only lowlight has been the ambiguous and self-fulfilling, though obviously well-intentioned, anti-burnout advice offered. Maxims like “avoid burnout,” “be careful,” “heed the advice you’ve been given,” “listen seriously to their concerns,” and “scale back,” are awfully difficult prescriptions to fill and sometimes only true in hindsight.

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