|coyot via Pixabay|
On positive psych class days, I never failed to leave campus smiling. But yesterday, I was a little sad.
What a difference a day makes.
Today, I taught my last two classes for the semester. I enjoy these students, too, and will especially miss the discussions we had in my afternoon class, which just clicked. But today it was 90 degrees and I taught two classes back-to-back in a third floor classroom with no evidence of air conditioning. We got a cross breeze going, but it didn't really cool the room down and by the time I was finished, I was wilting and so were my students.
In a way, I'm grateful because now, I'm ready. I've been barreling toward the end of the semester so quickly and with my blinders so securely in place that I came close to losing track of the reality of this day. It was only this morning that I realized that, although I have plenty to do tomorrow -- papers to grade, writing projects to tackle, a house to put back into shape -- I don't have to set an alarm.
Unlike most summers, I have only a few weeks off before I teach again. Since I've agreed to teach a summer session course, my summer break is shorter by a month. I'll be off while my daughter is home and I'll have time for a vacation, and so this plan, which allows me to do all the things I love, is a good one.
Tonight, I have papers to grade and projects to work on, mail to sort through, things to put away. But I am taking a break. Tomorrow, I will dig in again, moving into finals' week at a more leisurely pace, refreshed by a night off and a break in the routine, inspired by a semester whose end is bittersweet.