Work At Home
I almost logged into the school online grading system from my living room just now. Grades are due tomorrow afternoon and I was going to get a few of them done here at home because the internet connection here is seventy times faster than at school. (Yeah, I measured it. We are basically on dial-up at school.) I almost logged in, thinking it made sense. It was this close, but don't worry, I'm okay.
Teaching is my job. I like it. I liked it a lot more a while ago. I have had jobs teaching at Le Moyne and Onondaga Community College that I have absolutely loved. Those were more than jobs; they were work. I do a job for a boss so I can pay the bills, but I do work because it's all I want to do. I drive home from my job and then it's time for work which includes:
- helping to raise two daughters
- making a good home
- being in touch with friends and family
- writing, writing, and writing
I can't let my job interfere with any of that.
As a kid I watched Mom and Dad work together around the house. They cleaned, remodeled, raked the leaves, cut the lawn, painted, and did everything together to make a good home. I visited Dad working in his office, balancing checkbooks, writing bills, taking care of his business. Both of them taught me to get the work done. Do your work, then you can go play. Now I do my job so that I can dig into my work, the stuff I most want to do.
I almost messed that up. It was close. For a moment I forgot that the job is at school and home is for work, but I've got it now. It feels good to me, sitting here listening to music, working on a piece of writing, thinking of Mom and Dad hard at work on raising me.