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Summer Isn't What It Used to Be

What a strange summer this is turning out to be. A is in California, with his mother, visiting his family and attending Ivy’s graduation. I am here alone until Saturday. That isn’t the strange part, however. It’s that this is summer, and I have gotten stuck teaching two classes for five hours a day—a total of 25 hours a week, which is more time in front of students than I had to put in during the regular semester. What kind of summer vacation is this?
They are not difficult classes to teach—only five students (two from 8:00 to 10:00 and three from 1:00 to 4:00), but long. I find more than 90 minutes of one activity a strain, and there is a lot stuff to do in preparation for August with no time to take care of it. I know I’m lazy and a time waster, but at this point in my life I treasure my down time and I tend to stretch out those moments until they eat into what should be busy time. Like now, I would rather be writing a journal entry than grading papers.

The Rabbit Died

I didn’t think I’d post another entry so soon, but I’m a little upset and I wanted to note: Tekkie died today. He was left here around four o’clock and seemed fine, but when A and I came into the house around six, the rabbit was dead on the kitchen floor. There was nothing wrong with him on the outside, so we assumed he must have been poisoned by eating dead leaves from the tree outside. I had allowed him to wander around the enclosed patio. It was either that or perhaps parasites from the lettuce he had been fed. Such a delicate little thing. He was turning out to be a bit of a nuisance with the foot nipping and constant pooping, but he really was a cute little ball of fur. I had him here less than two weeks. I can’t seem to keep a pet, and it always hurts when they’re gone.

Alone with a Rabbit

Another depressing weekend sitting here alone, except now there is a rabbit with me—given to me by my students for my birthday, but all he does is crap and bite, so he is not good company.
I have papers to grade and charts to prepare—work which should have been done a week ago, but I haven’t the enthusiasm needed to complete my tasks. In this new position, there is no end in sight. I’m expected to work through the summer now, so days just repeat themselves. This semester will end in a couple of weeks, and the faces will change, but the work will go on and on and on. It is no longer fulfilling.
I don’t get time to write. I’m snatching moments to make this entry. Granted I’ve just passed through my memorial week, when I have vowed not to write, but it is like that most of the time now. There is too much to do—none of which I want to do. I’m feeling old, lonely, and often despondent. Uncreative. Repetitive days do not inspire.
These moments when the space is too warm and I don’t even feel like getting dressed, I sit in front of a fan and smoke cigarettes and stare into space dreaming of things I will write, but those thoughts don’t make it to the page. It seems I often journalize to express my angst, but frequently I don’t even do that. Rather, I often succumb to the numbingness of sitting through a movie I’ve already seen several times because that requires no expulsion of energy, and it can sometimes revive a pleasant memory of the ephemera surrounding the original viewing. Of course, there are times when I push myself to write things down and this has thus become a Journal of Disappointments and Depression, perhaps not something I am ever going to want to reread if the veil lifts.

Ambivalence

This is the time of year I feel so ambivalent about. Yes, it’s spring. Days are sunny, but not so stifling hot, and there is a sense of renewal in the air. But specifically these two weeks in early April are a painful reminder to me of that April of the year 2000… At this juncture, I find it difficult to believe five years have passed, and how much my life has changed. …
April is also tax time and again I become aware of my neglected duties. I am no patriot, but I know what I’m supposed to do. Blank forms are upstairs—I just never get around to remitting them.
This is also the time when all test preparation begins. Third partials are this coming week—then extemps are to be administered—followed too closely by final exams. This year will be different in that I will not have the summer off.
I did not go up to New York during Semana Santa, but hope to, perhaps, make the trip some time in July. I can take two weeks, but my financial situation is not as it once was, so I’m not sure yet when I will return. A is setting up something for a seminar in Spain around that time, and it would make sense to take care of my business simultaneously, but well…
Yesterday was the day of the water dumping. I don’t want to say more about that, but simply note it here to remind myself of how crazy Stress Week makes me. It’s a poor excuse, I know, but some things never change. They just manifest themselves in different ways.
I want to go to San Cristóbal today even though I have so many things to do and should get to them. I mean to go no matter what is pressing. Sometimes I get sidetracked by details, but I am always reminded that, “Life is short. Carpe diem.” Occasionally, I take heed and rush headlong into whatever appeals to me most. There is so little diversion on offer and what I like—I like. When the final tally is taken, I want to come out winning and as I see it, there’s only one way I can. Perhaps there is more than one way, but not many, not by a long shot.

To Coordinate or Not to Coordinate

One month into the position of Coordinador de Idiomas, and I have to admit although the money is good and I don’t want to give it up, I do not truly feel fit for this job. I also have three normal classes at three different levels, and along with the administrative duties, I am exhausted all the time. Only one class is a hold over from last semester, but with the problems of the electronic platform, that one, too, is in disarray. This week coming is for first partial exams, and at the moment I have nothing ready for any of these classes. Kate left in December after briefing me in a schrift (though admittedly, I didn’t pursue the training with so much enthusiasm as I might have), and now I’m finding all kinds of things I don’t know how to handle.
So, I have a confusing job, classes every day, for which I am unprepared, a class on Saturdays, cigarettes are ruining my health, and I have very little free time, which I seem to waste surfing on the Internet. Along with all this, A is only working a part-time teaching job at his father’s school and has a lot of free time. He takes me to Tec every morning, but then I frequently don’t see him again for the rest of the day.
I don’t feel so good about the whole situation, but look forward to some sort of vacation, perhaps during Semana Santa, though I’m thinking before April 15th, I have to go to New York to take care of my taxes. I haven’t resolved them for 2002, 2003, and now 2004 filing is due.
After the last fiasco, I’m almost afraid to go to New York. I’m losing money by the pound, and that’s another reason I want to keep this job. I’m hoping that as the New York money goes down, the Mexican money goes up and it balances out somewhat.
For the 19th of February, I hope to go to Tapachula to apply a TOEFL, and that’s a new thing for me. If I can find enthusiasm for little things, perhaps it will be enough to carry me through. As it is, I just dream about a time when I can retire, laze on a beach, drink piña coladas, and write whatever I want. Actually, I want Jimmy Buffet’s life, only I’m not enough of a pirate to steal away and just do it, nor do I have enough capital to make a start.
Oh, well, the dream is still alive.