This is the time of the semester where I live on the verge of a hysterical panic attack and breakdown. Finals week is coming. There are papers coming in, papers going out, assignments being juggled, students cheating, students pleading, students sending in late work, deadlines falling like hail around me. I have headaches. My pulse races when I think about it. I have a lot of heartburn and stomach pain.
This year it's more stressful because I'm going to LDStorymakers during the weekend between finals week and when final grades are due, which means that I also need to do in advance all the grading and scoring that I usually do that weekend. And on top of that, I also need to revise another 45,000 words of my own writing before then. Also, I have three young kids at home. Their need for attention, food, clothing, help with homework, tooth brushing, and play time are, shockingly, not abating in the face of my stress. Also, I'm pregnant. Also, since I won't be returning to work in September and we keep encountering huge expenses (1200 bucks on the van this month and Storymakers in May), I'm worried about money. (I've been worried about money since I was six, so this is not new. I sometimes think that I could win the lottery and still worry about money. I'd love to try it.)
Bottom line, well, actually a few bottom lines:
1. I'm probably going to die of a heart attack when I'm 65. I've come to terms with that.
2. I remember being this stressed out before very frequently, and I survived every single one of those times with no casualties or epic failures. I know that this time will be the same, and while that doesn't necessarily make me feel better, it does prevent me from curling up in a ball or making hysterical phone calls to my mother and husband.
3. The world has chocolate, nacho cheese, and melon for times just like this.