It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. It is here. Perhaps you think I should use an exclamation point to convey my excitement, but I am too tired for that. Robotic repetition is the mode of celebration I can do right now.
I survived seven hours of conferencing (21 conferences; 20 minutes each), thirty hours of teaching (the library special is canceled this week), forty-five minutes of playground duty, four and a half hours of graduate school, and I don't know how many hours of grading, planning, and prepping. At one point, during the second night of evening conferences, I was thinking that I needed to walk the kids out to parent pick-up and do duty before going home. Then, I realized it was about seven at night. After that many hours in the building, you really lose track of time.
It really is strange to be free after being under the gun that much for a whole week. It feels good, though.
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