Bismillah
My darling almost seven-year-old woke me up to help with a wet bed situation. In her defense, this has not happened much of late so I can't complain about once in awhile. Still, getting three or four hours less sleep is not something to be sneezed at.
Why does putting a clean sheet on a kid's bed take three or four hours? Because mommy can't get back to sleep afterwards, that's why.
My life comes crowding in to my brain when I'm fully awake, and fully awake I was after having had to hunt about every nook and cranky searching for a dry towel to make her soggy bed better.
Lack of school for my boys troubles me, as usual, and then the over-all pervasive and general dislike of teaching. Really, my job's not bad. The people are nice, the work is not onerous. What's the problem? I'm not, just really not, a people person. I can't help it.
I would rather work quietly than chat with anyone - and what is teaching but one long conversation?
The kids are uniformly sweet, masha'Allah. The adults are endearing. The material's not bad. It's just me.
I'm a loner - a true independent. I like to think, not talk. I crave long silences, deep pauses. I like to look, contemplate, and quietly get things done. Teaching leaches my energy, draws my soul out of myself. I'm in the wrong field.
I should be a middle-ages guild member, a fine craftsman (woman). My art is in my heart and my mind and my hands, not in my tongue.
What a stupid thing to complain about.
I figure I've got about 10 - 12 more years of this. Ya Rabb! I'll be in my late 50s then, insha'Allah. Will I ever get time to make art? I have to find a way to squeeze it in, but as it is I am so tired.
Be gone exhaustion!
I need to pray, exercise and start my day - sleep or no sleep. Sleep is such a waste of time....