The Picture of November Grey

I’m tired.

Am I allowed to say that?

It’s now been three months since I’ve been back at the front of the classroom, and I think I’m finally starting to settle into things. But after a week’s visit to see family in Ontario, we returned home to a grey, cold, snowy, day… and I felt so very, very tired. And worn out. And cold.

Like mood, like weather.

Autumn came early to our home this year; A colourful array of fallen leaves, frosty evenings, and pumpkin loaf. But now, the year seems to be winding down at an incredibly fast pace, like an acute and cancerous disease taking down November from all of her glory. She lies there under a white blanket of snow, shivering in the constant cold, and crying in the invisible wind.

It’s dramatically over-poetic, but not very warm.

So I went back to school after the long weekend, driving along a grey road, with the grey sky, in a grey mood. I honestly hadn’t any idea what I was going to teach that day, and I really couldn’t have cared less. And later, when one of my oh-so-funny junior high students made an offhanded, humorous comment… I laughed.

And for some reason, I was shocked.

I was shocked?

One reason I enjoy teaching junior high is the daily intake of referential humour and sarcastic comments. Between their unfinished homework and irrelevant comments, these adolescent students remind me that life doesn’t always have to be so serious. They make me laugh, and I give them silly reasons to make me laugh. And I love that.

So why would I be shocked?

Because all I’ve been seeing, is the grey. I’ve been frustrated with the repetition. I’ve been annoyed with the constant challenges. I’ve been saddened by the loss of time that goes by so quickly; that I feel like I’m neither getting a chance to live it, nor write it down.

But I need to remember… I love old photos of black and white… and grey.

I love looking for the hidden sparkle in the newly, fallen snow.

I love a good sense of awkward humour, dripping in sarcasm.

I love that life is unpredictable, and full of as many moments of laughter, as it is of frustration.

And I love that just because my words have been on “pause” for a season, it doesn’t mean they won’t come back.

They are coming back.

No more November Grey.

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