I am exhausted with my own earnestness. My belief in effecting change and helping and doing the good work. Increasingly I am so disposed to complaining about my situation at work, so unwaveringly incredulous at the task I've been given and accepted, that I'm almost ready to stop. To pack it in, to give up, leave my students behind to very well sit for the next five months without a real teacher because it's hard to find knowledgeable people to fill in without notice in a one-horse town. I both want to care and am tired of caring. I want to give up, to go back to days where I only exist, where I think about and plan classes I want to teach and give myself the opportunity to find them, rather than trying to tread water with no plan. I'm perfectly fine with having the responsibility for 146 minds and their literary and photographic education. But it seems only irresponsible to be so unprepared to help them. I'm almost ready to
let go. Stop treading.
