Well, it’s back to the convent. Dear Reader, you may well have guessed that I go with thoroughly mixed feelings, as I love my sisters but find myself quite attached to my family (silly, right?). I believe I have also been hit with the “almost Christmas” school blues, in which my excitement and joy in teaching suddenly seem less relative to my eagerness to get to and enjoy the break. Don’t worry, I have no intention of slacking off and being a lame teacher for the next four-ish weeks. Actually, quite the contrary: I’ve been kind of coasting after the beginning of the year madness, enjoying the fact that I actually sort of adjusted to my job. First thing tomorrow, it’s time to kick it up a gear.
Being home was sort of surreal in that “it feels like I never left” sort of way, and also in a “where the heck is dad?” sort of way. His current deployment has been significantly less weird for me than my family, I’m sure, since I don’t really see the difference between him being at home and not being at home – I’m not there, either. With regard to the former surrealness, it seems to me to be a particularly good thing. It means I haven’t missed too much and it means my niche in the family, while altered, has not been diminished (I’m sure both my parents will laugh at me for even thinking that was a possibility, but cut me some slack. One assumes when she vacates her spot in the nest that the rest of the nest’s inhabitants will spread out a little).
It was also wonderful to see some of my nearest and dearest partners in lunacy from my long-gone college days. Sadly, I spent the last half of their visit and the day following struck down by a weird illness, the after effects of which I’m still feeling, but in their typical fashion they had me laughing through most of it. My sense of humor’s full depth of tastelessness wasn’t clear to me until I moved in with the sisters, and it was quite the relief to be able to make a few ridiculous comments with these people.
Departure wasn’t too painful this time. This is the third time I’ve left BWI for San Antonio. When Mark dropped me off in June, I almost lost it. When Daddy dropped me off in August, I did loose it. This time when Mama and the babies dropped me off, I kept it together by telling myself “Four weeks, four weeks, four weeks…”, which is a very bearable time after I just went three months. Still, I miss said babies, Mama, Daddy, friends, and assorted other “home” persons plenty.
Tomorrow I’ll teach like it’s my job (sorry, that was really lame), and I will continue to do so until May. In between, I’ll keep missing my friends and family, enjoying them when I can see them. And really, that’s how it oughta be, right?