For Humor On Life Things

    Mondays and Used Body Scrub

    I laid in the bath tub,  the warm water wrapped around my body.   “Baths not only clean the body, but the mind as well”, I thought as the day’s worries drifted through my mind.  I sat up and reached for the new body scrub I picked up at Target last night.  After I unscrewed the lid, I was met with deep finger-sized canals etched in the beautiful smooth top.  Someone had opened the body scrub and helped themselves to a finger full.  “What a perfect night cap for the Monday I just had,” I thought as I scooped out my own handful of body scrub dismissing the grossness of the situation.


    Today was a Monday.  My alarm didn’t go off, my phone didn’t charge all night, and I turned on the TV to news of mass killings and utter devastation.  Bound and determined to change my course, I strapped on my backpack and walked to work, where I was met with unplanned meetings and lessons that went straight over the heads of my students.  The dominos just kept falling as my day went on.  One unsuccessful moment after the other… dink, dink, dink… down with the domino train…


    I ended my school day with a room full of students stuffed into a 77 degree room, because the janitor so kindly turned my heater on this morning, but forgot to tell me about it.  Meanwhile, as my students and I were loosing our ever-loving minds, my (pure-hearted and blessed) instructional coach made her way into my room with her spiral notebook and pencil tucked tightly to her chest.  “Why does this always happen,” I think, as I turn visibly red from the sauna in my room and the chaos around me.




    Always on Mondays.


    After ten years of parenting and 13 years of education experience, you would think a Monday with children wouldn’t ruin me so badly.  But, alas, I sit here after my bath of violated salt-scrub and a feeling of defeat that I just can’t shake.  I am definitely feeling the role of “old dog” today in the saying “old dog, new tricks”, and man, humble pie doesn’t taste so good, especially on a Monday.

    Learning new things is hard.  New school culture, new city culture, new curriculum, new people, new parents, new students… new-new-new…

    The ever present newness causes the desire for oldness to set in deep and hard.  Old-old-old, my body aches for it.  The comfortableness of old relationships and the familiarity of a job that I loved.  The gaping round hole isn’t noticed until it is filled with a misshapen square peg.  All I can focus on is the misshapen-ness of the square peg, and not the necessary work to forge the square hole for the said square peg to slide into.

    Mondays are necessary.  Feeling Mondays are unavoidable.  Some Mondays are harder than other, and this one was one of them.

    We are all just trying our best, aren’t we? I have no answers, but I do know that tomorrow is Tuesday, not Monday.  Also, my skin is freshly exfoliated, and somewhere a stranger has soft hands.