The Waiting Game

Another book signing, means another round of “The Waiting Game”. I have learned that being in the world of writing is filled with times of waiting for people to give some kind of reaction to you. Waiting for a response, waiting for people to notice you at a table, just sitting and waiting. I feel like Dr. Seuss, when he wrote one of my favorite books, “Oh, The Places You’ll Go!”. 

He spends quite a bit of time discussing “The Waiting Place”. Where people wait for busses to go, for hair to grow, and for a second break. As he stated, “Everyone is just waiting..”

I have found that even if you have a go-go attitude, and want to get your information and writings out there, sometimes you have to wait because other choose to wait. It’s a hard thing to do for people like me. I like to keep busy, to share my story, to make appearances flooded with people, but in the real world of being an author, that often doesn’t happen.

Just now I have three people walk by me and try their best not to look at me. I fear that they think that I am a telemarketer, waiting to demand money from them. Of course, I should take it personally. But you find yourself watching the clock at times, watching the seconds tick away and your mind begins to wander to others things you could be doing.
So, of course, the ultimate questions comes to mind. “Why keep doing it if you spend so much time just sitting there?”
Because when you find your passion, you are willing to wait for others to realize your talents for the world. Because, one day, people might think back at the time they walked passed you in the cafe, in the crepery, in the book store, and they will think back on your face. They will say, “I remember seeing that author before! I should have stopped! I had the moment to share a conversation with that person and to learn their views!”
See, the loss is not of the authors. The loss if for those who didn’t stop. So, for those authors who do book signings and feel the loneliness resting on your shoulders as other avoid you while you struggle to get your words into their hands, I understand. I am going through it once again right now, with the cold air of Michigan swiping across my face each time someone opens a door, walks in, and rushes quickly past me.
But, as Jimmy V said in his memorable speech, “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.”

I’m Just “Teacher” Tired

One thing that I know, there is nothing like being “teacher” tired. It is a level of fatigue that no one outside of the profession can understand. School start last week, and my body has broken down like I am a heavy weight contender that had a match with the Mike Tyson of yore. Everything when you are teacher tired, hurts, doesn’t want to function, and is on the verge of shutting down.

For example, my hip hurts at the start of each school year. I am talking limping, staggering around a house, pain. It will do this all weekend, and suddenly be cured for Monday morning, just to ache again at the last bell of Friday. It might be psychosomatic, but I tell you, anyone who has experienced being “teacher tired” completely understands.

If you want your mind to function, forget about it. You have to get your room set, clean up, make copies, sit in meetings, here a cheer for the new year then be belted back to earth with hearing about your standardize testing scores, stand in front of children, talk for hours, field a zillion questions (and no, that isn’t hyperbole, we get that many questions) from kids and parents, plus start to read and grade again. Most who aren’t called to teach would try this one day, and make a dart for the nearest cliff to jump off, because being a teacher at the beginning of the school year can break you.

So, to my dear friends that are “teacher” tired, I am with you. In less than an hour, I am going to put on my happy face for Open House, and make it seem like to parents that I have all the energy in the world for their children. That’s what teachers are designed to do. So saddle up for another school year, and fight the weights that bear down on us. Despite being this exhausted, we always make it for the benefit of our children.

 

The Sadness of Sunshine

I dream of you every night.

But you are gone before the dawn.

Your face, it fades, in morning light.

I dream of you every night.

The tears, the loss of soul’s delight.

In my warm arms, you do belong.

I dream of you every night.

But you are gone before the dawn.