I Can't Do This

     September 9, 1977, the end of my first week of teaching my very first class - a 5/6 split.  I had been up every night, long past midnight, for 4 days trying to prepare enough work to keep one group busy long enough to teach the other. I had no systems, no routines, no units prepared, useless, airy-fairy curriculum documents, and tons of marking.

      I got picked up after work that first Friday, stepped into the passenger seat and burst into tears.  "I can't do this," I blubbered.  "I'm exhausted. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to fix this."  I continued to sob.  "I have to quit.".  We drove along, my ex-wife calmly reassuring me that I could do it.  "Don't quit. Just do one more day. Just one day at a time. It will get easier."

     And it did - slowly, dauntingly, exhaustingly, arduously (you get the idea).  It got better.  I'm very thankful that I didn't quit that first Friday 35 years ago.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.  A career of a thousand weeks begins with just one more day.