The dance I do to get myself up early to greet another blustery morning in Chicago, windy city is an understatement, Illinois, I have poetically deemed the java jive. One because that is the title of a real song that I sang in high school as part of my dancing, singing, red sparkly vest wearing show choir, two because said show choir reminds me of my best friend who always makes me laugh, and three because after my first full week in the classroom with my second graders (undergrad student teaching, not TFA quite yet), I feel like functioning is not an option without the divine powers of the caffeinated coffee heart beat.
So with java as my life-support, the routine of my morning is the jive- bed to shower, shower to kitchen, make lunch, don’t forget lunch, kitchen to living room, t.v. for cultural, worldly stimulation, back to bedroom, what to wear, tights under pants to stay warm, back to bathroom, fancy headband, teacher smile, rush to front door, boots or shoes, shoes or boots, 7:25 out the door, down the stairs, on to the street, smashed mass transit, steel train car, pause for the moment when the redline ascends from North & Clybourn to Fullerton where the tracks spark and so does sun and I know why I am here and what I am doing- then walk, sit, listen, prepare, teach. Lather, rinse, and repeat.
All for this.
Stay positive out there teachers, and hit the delay brew button for me.