... how do you measure, measure a year?
I sat down to scrapbook this morning (actually, I knelt down - on the floor, because clearing enough table space to work was not an option, so I took the floor) and finally started to do something with the photos from the Europe trip.
The Europe trip from last summer.
How did a year, an entire, whole year, go by so quickly? What happened to all the stuff between last June and this one?
When I think or talk about that trip, I want to say, "When I went to Spain, a couple months ago..." It seems like it was yesterday. But then again, I was dating Mr. Lexus at the time - and he seems to have been millenia ago. So how does that work?
Maybe this school year was so taxing and depressing that my brain has decided to block it out, and Freddy feels like such a natural part of my life now that my brain tries to place him in all parts of my life, even those before I knew him. Maybe I'm just getting old, and forgetting things.
Last year at this time, Jen and I were prancing around London and Paris, and I was picking up any and every brochure, menu, and pamphlet I could find because I was sure I'd find some use for it in my classroom. I went to Shakespeare's Globe Theater (saw two shows, both awesome) and bought half the gift shop, because I was going to be teaching Julius Caesar to my sixth graders - how cool was I going to be, bringing all this authentic material to class?
While I was cleaning out my classroom, with Freddy diligently telling me to throw things away (because I didn't need them anymore, and he was right), I was softly simmering. Here were all the things I bought just last summer for my classroom - posters, postcards, books, magazines, books, kids' books, and some other books. I was embarrassed that I spent so much money, most of it my dad's (some of it mine, but most of it his, over the summer) on classroom supplies, just to quit a year later. I'm saving all the stuff I bought over the summer (except for two posters that the copy-room lady screwed up when she laminated them), even though I don't know why - I don't plan on teaching again soon - but I just couldn't throw them away, or even give them away. The least I could do was keep them, even if the only thing I'll use any of it for is taking up room in my attic.
On the plus side, I do have a nice little library for my future children, and I can set up my own counterfeit mini-museum of impressionists and surrealists - maybe I can make the money back by charging admission.
Speaking of my future children, going back to school will put all that on hold for two years, if not more. Am I really okay with that, or am I telling myself I'm okay with it because that's just what I have to do now?
How am I going to feel about it 525,600 minutes from now?
On a side note, about this time last year, Jenny was also putting up with me whining about my aching abscessed tooth. Funny - about this time this year, I've developed a new but equally intense toothache (the earliest the endodontist can see me is in three weeks, but the dentist gave me penicillin and some very nice pain meds, so it's all good). Let's just hope this is not planning on becoming an annual ritual.