Being a teacher has never been easy. But most of us deep down love what we do, so it’s never really been hard, either.

Let me tell you, folks: since 2020, teaching has been hard. We won’t get into the myriad of reasons it is just that. But trust me, it is so much harder than it used to be.

School ended on Thursday, and I went to sleep. I’m still in my pajamas, and its Sunday. Even in the golden age of South Florida sports — Panthers and Heat both in the final of the Playoffs — sleep. I told my husband just to give me the score in the morning. Sleep.

We did go out and go tubing in Rainbow Springs yesterday, because it’s physically easy, and psychologically refreshing to be outside, in nature, off the devices. I barely made it past lunch. I normally can’t sleep in the car, that’s just not my thing. I slept the whole ride home.

I’m looking at my summer calendar with the kid’s camps, volunteering at the camps, professional developments, and all the doctor’s appointments you can’t get to during a school year, and it’s giving me anxiety. Sleep.

Literally, I’m too tired to schedule a massage for myself.

I’m sure once the kids are off to camp, and I’m alone for a day I’ll be bored and wondering how am I going to get through a day with nothing scheduled until camp pickup. I’ve got some books I want to read, some craft projects that I want to finish, some very overdue house cleaning/projects that I want to do (ones that I want to do, not actually the ones that need to get done…but hey, it’s my summer.)

But for now, sleep.