Blurred Lines

Leila

I had finished my last class for the year. I was officially on break. It was freeing and alienating at the same time. I liked teaching. I liked the interactions. I liked having somewhere to be. If I was smart, I would take advantage of the break and get some of those little projects done around the house. Unfortunately, I had been saying that with every break, and usually very little actually got done.

I shut the door to the class and headed for my office. I would spend the night grading tests, which might not sound exciting to some people, but I was thrilled with the idea. I liked the quiet nights at home when I could burn a fire in the fireplace and sip wine while wearing my pajamas. Grading papers could be cathartic at times.

Other times it could be a serious headache, but mostly, I liked to see the fruits of my labor. I liked to see how much or how little of an impression I made on my students. I needed to pick up a couple of things from my office, swing by the grocery store