The Cowering Dog

"Have you ever been in a bad mood and you just can't get out of it?"

This is the question I asked a colleague on Thursday, probably 3 days too long into asking it.  Perhaps it was the theme of my week.  Perhaps it was my medication not working (in the past, it was from a lack of being medicated).  I know some of it involves my own stubbornness with my devotions and the fact that I tuned out last Sunday at church.  The reason isn't so much as an issue as my reaction.

Perhaps it was the lack of time, the overbooking of appointments and the coordinated attempt to document nothing and allow the schedule to dictate my life.  Monday began simple enough and I realize this because I cannot even remember the day.  Tuesday began the first day of our parent-teacher conference schedule.  I was meeting pretty much throughout the night, and most of them were negative in terms of my message to their parents.

"Lack of effort."
"Not focused."
"Could be doing better."

Was I speaking primarily of myself?  Perhaps.  I spoke to a coworker this past week and said that I had felt I was sitting too much.  Delegating responsibilities and jobs, checking on work minimally, barking orders and accomplishing nothing more than to move a pile from one corner of my table to another.  It's ironic that my fourth graders were reading the novel, "Loser."  We also read a strange fantasy story aptly titled, "The Stranger."

It's no wonder when I switch to the fifth graders, they stare at me with this glossy film.  Fourth graders are needier, more immature.  The girls are still girls and the boys cry enough to keep Kleenex free from bankruptcy.  he fifth graders are a different bunch.  Some of my boys are moody and sullen, a few of them downright scary.  They can look beyond you at times.  The look of a stranger.  Most of the time they are talkative, sarcastic.  They enjoy making fun of one another on a level reserved for comedians and frat buds.  Sometimes, they just don't know how to turn off the switch.

My fifth grade girls are not so much lazy but preoccupied and ever knowledgeable.  They don't make my voice rise but they know how to get my teeth grind.  Their work comes in late and meticulous.  They rarely ever remove their coats as if exposing their t-shirt will somehow reveal their secrets.

We're reading the novel, "To Kill a Mockingbird."  A challenge for sure.  So far, they are accepting the challenge well.  I'm up more, directing lessons and dictating their notes.  I can see their frustration at times, not necessarily with the material, but with me hovering over them as I try and manage their wasteful use of time.  They are like my new dog.  He cowers in his carrier, that security, as I stomp around the house.  I give him the same look I give the kids but with different agendas.  One peed on the carpet.  One is tucking away a drawing, stopped an off-topic conversation.

Wednesday was meetings at church.  I am being called in a direction that I had been openly wishing for and received an invite.  Can I lead a men's bible study?  More importantly, can I realize that God is calling me to act?

Thursday is back to conferences.  More of the same but with more volume.  I found my very walk in the classroom an aggressive form of Kramer from Seinfeld.  Typically I walk away from confrontation and at times I stared too long, forced to say the last word.  Even the flicker of a light switch was a damnation of their abilities.

I promptly came home and erupted, went to bed at 9 and woke up fighting again.  Friday wasn't much better.  Our timing was awful, rushing from one event to the next.  Staying home last night and this morning from commitments previously made was indicative of my feelings towards anyone, from my relationship to God, to friends, to anything.

There's other things too.  Too much for this blog.  Perhaps for me as well.  I wanted to get back to reviewing my personal calendar, promptly left it at school.  It's either God's way of telling me that I cannot schedule my own life regardless of appointments, clocks and deadlines.  Or it's another reminder that there's work to be done.