Friday evening, second to last day of Ed. five-oh-whatever it is. (The first of the six classes I have this semester.) Mr. B passes around a sign-up sheet for final presentations…and I get it last.
Not because I sit in the back, mind you–I don’t. It just got passed around the room in a round-about way.
I had sweaty palms as soon as I woke up; I sat there in class covertly blowing on them until the final hour; by then, there was no moisture left in my entire body. Particularly my mouth.
I had just spent the six hours listening to ten amazing people; ten people who have traveled the world and competed internationally, and collectively hold more master’s degrees than I have years in my entire educational career. I was really humbled as I got to know them better. Really smart, compassionate, visionary people.
My turn in less than ten… nine… eight… oh NO! My thumb drive is in the van!!
It’s a good thing I took up running; I made it to the van and back before the question/answer period for the person before me sat down.
But you know what...? It was fun. It really was. I love teaching; I love the way all the jumbled ideas I’ve crammed into my head in preparation just kind of… settle into place as I look into the eyes of my listeners. I’m terrified, and sick and nervous as anything, but it’s fun. In the way jumping out of an airplane at 20,000 feet is fun, probably.
At any rate, I did survive.
I came home and made four apple pies and I didn’t answer my phone once all weekend.
And today I haven’t done a lick of homework. I’m sure panic might set in some time in the middle of the night over that one, but maybe it won’t. Depends on if anything was due… Maybe it will set in right now…