There's nothing like an unexpected gift. No, I didn't win the lottery, but I imagine the feeling is similar. I was so stunned I didn't quite know how to react. I didn't even know where to go or what to take with me. No, I didn't win a vacation. Not quite. So there I am in my classroom on a Tuesday afternoon after testing. We're watching a movie, Akeelah and the Bee, to be precise. I'm busying myself writing next week lesson plans and supervising the kids who need supervising. I haven't had to harp too badly yet. I have an hour to go. The door opens and another teacher walks in. He tells me I'm free to go.
At first I am confused. There was a class coverage list but I wasn't on it. According to the list, I get one prep break all week, half of 45 minutes split with someone else, and this takes place tomorrow. I am not overly pleased by the arrangement, but neither am I distraught. In teaching, the schedule changes from year to year. Some years we like our schedules; other years they stink. I've had years when my testing or half-day schedule had me working non-stop, and other times I've made out like a bandit. You take the good, you take the bad. So anyway, there I was being told I could just leave for 45 minutes. Forty-five free minutes with no papers to grade, no parents to meet with, and no children to tend to!
So here I am hiding in the back of the school library, typing away my amazement. I'm not really hiding, but...well, you never know. I'm enjoying this out of all proportion. It's not like I don't have a prep every day. But every day there's something to get done. This free time is, well, free. It's unscripted and great. And what does all this excitement about forty-five minutes say about my standards of happiness? The answer to that question is scary.
