Mrs. RW and I were getting ready for the Salt Mines this morning and she asked me what my day was going to look like. No more than 3 sentences into it, and she audibly rolled her eyes at me and said, “Nevermind; I’m sorry I asked.” But of course I’m NOT sorry that she asked and the more I thought about it, the more important it became that everyone get to hear the tale of what is going to happen today. Brace yourselves, Dear Reader, because today is going to be something else!
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My day will begin as all my days begin; rising in the dark of a late night and beginning the brewing of the magic elixir that will bring me fully back to life. After saying my tearful farewells to Mrs. RW and rest of the RW Clan, I will mount my aluminum steed and carefully make my way to the Epicenter of Elucidation.
Once I’ve made my way to my classroom, the sun will now timidly rise, but of course I won’t see it because the two dormer windows I’m allowed face the West. They beckon to me as I suspect they do to all men, but I cannot follow them as I have business here still… maybe one day.
Eventually the bell will toll and students will shamble into the room. Bleary of eye and slow of movement they will shuffle and groan like the imperfectly resurrected. Do they truly despise their present circumstance so much or do they simply perform the timeless role of “Surly Teen #2” to such an amazing degree that art and life become indistinguishable?
For the next several hours I will ply my trade and perform my role with all the verve and flourish I can muster. I will prance and preen, joke and cajole, and command and entreat with such conviction that all will wonder if there can even be a distinction between the Teacher and the Man. Yea, and it may be that decades and decades from now scholars will look back on the body of my work and wonder if perhaps I was merely an apocryphal figure, an amalgamation of people meant to serve as an example (or possibly a warning!) of what can happen when you allow a melodramatic melancholic to instruct the youth on how to perceive reality.
And my students? What will they think of all of this ado about nothing? Those who have deigned to notice my performance at all may reward me with an ostentatious eyeroll or perhaps even a sympathetic “You’re doing too much, brah.” I think that on some level they can acknowledge my efforts to drag them towards the Well of Understanding, even if we both know from the outset that they really aren’t that thirsty.
Eventually the setting sun will make its way through my windows and remind me that this day’s toil is coming to a close. So I’ll mount my trusty steed and trust him to carry me home. I will be bent by some combination of worry, age, and a growing realization that I am experiencing but a series of days; each one at once unique and shockingly alike. Bent, yes, but not yet broken, for another day will soon be upon me and this hero’s tale will not have ended.
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That’s going to be my day! And let me tell you, when your days are as something as mine are, you simply have to do them justice when describing them. Have yourself a day, Dear Reader, and remember that no matter how it goes, there will be another one tomorrow!
Sarcastically Serious 