Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Not again.

This does not bode well for the immediate future of my writing habit. I am notorious (among myself) for the reverse binge-and-purge of good deeds.

But I could not stop myself.

In another requisite end-of-year reflection, I am forced to recognize how quickly this year has passed. The What Significant Things Happened in 2008? Game was played by my mom and me on Christmas Day as I drowsily drove home from my sister's house. It was meant to keep me awake, as the game Cows was not cutting it.

This year passed with such swiftness, I believe, because of how compartmentalized it was. This is how I think of it: Post-Graduation/Pre-Honduras, Honduras, Post-Honduras/Holly's Wedding/Pre-Teaching, and Teaching. For each segment of time, I was oblivious to anything but my immediate physical and mental surroundings and the tasks at hand. Each chapter, if you will, flowed neatly into the next one in such a way that, without my notice, I graduated college one day and finished my first semester as a real teacher the next -- with a whole year gone in the process.

Perhaps the most surprising realization of all (maybe I exaggerate) was the inspiration for this entry. Looking at my links (almost unfamiliar from the lack of seeing them regularly), I saw the one to my Flickr photos. I knew before I clicked it what I would find: My premium account has expired. The year passed and I did not make my payment. What was more than a thousand photographs and several nifty albums dividing them up has been reduced to 200 pictures, being less than half of my Honduras album. I have not yet decided whether or not to upgrade and save the account. Its practicality has, too, expired for me.

It seems strange to me that silly little bits like this mark the passage of time.

Considering the new year's resolve.

With the new year fewer than two days away, I am almost inspired to renew my dedication to this blog. Almost.

More than half of my school winter break (to be politically correct) has passed, and I am just now unearthing the tools of teacherliness that have conveniently been out of sight -- and undoubtedly out of mind. I'm trying to get last semester -- in all its incompleteness due to snow days -- graded and out of the way, but today, I found myself preparing for this coming semester during which I get to be an English teacher, too. In theory, it sounds exciting. A little bit, anyhow. We'll see. So I must carve out that path for myself and my students. Plus, I need to apply all of my lessons learned from this past semester to rethink my strategies and routines for this semester. Is organization next to godliness? Or is it preparedness?

And so it is now time to reflect upon that hideous false construct of the new year's resolution. I am leary of saying them out loud, much less writing them down, much less publishing them for others to see. I think it is a curse akin to that of the senior yearbook ad. (Refresher course: The couples who take out an ad in the back of the yearbook in order to profess their love for another are doomed to break up before the yearbooks come off the press.) I'm not sure I've accomplished any goal I've ever written down save purchasing an item on a grocery list, which is still a dubious example.

With the above in mind, I will not share my list of very specific tasks I have proposed for myself, both personal and professional. But there is a list! In my mind and nowhere else. Of course.