Classes begin again in the morning, and I’m not terribly thrilled about that fact.  Sadly, however, I don’t understand why I feel this indifference.  I think it is indeed a form of indifference rather than out and out hatred of the whole idea of teaching.  There are few activities as rewarding as connecting positively with students and knowing that a particular class meeting has gone well, that students have both learned and enjoyed doing so.  In fact, a class like that produces a near euphoria in me–perhaps, an emotional state a notch or two below out and out bliss, but a damn good feeling nonetheless.

This being the case, my indifference makes no sense.  Could I be depressed?  Could these feelings be a seasonal response to the cold, wet weather?  Or could it be the lack of concrete assurances about Samantha’s pending employment that prevent me from experiencing my own work in more positive terms?  Or maybe I just want to accelerate the rate at which theses changes are happening or not happening in our lives?  In other words, could this indifference about the here and now be impatience for the then and there?

Now that I think about it, I might also be impatient to lose the weight I’m working to rid myself of.   I have been exceedingly dedicated to this effort–drastically cutting calories and increasing exercise.  It’s just not happening fast enough to suit me.  I think the recent haircut has boosted my body image.  At least the gray is gone, and the shorter length makes my hair seem thicker.  But again I want the physical changes to happen as instantaneously as the hair has been improved.  Surely to God there has to be a way to hasten this process.

Perhaps, then, I face frustration on several fronts.  So, by all means, let’s get this god-damned show on the road.