Not depressed tired. Not complaining tired. Not even angry tired – not this time. Just… tired.
Teacher tired.
Meghan Loyd used this term a while back, and – like Meghan – it’s captivated me ever since. It’s just so true.
This isn’t one of those “our job is harder than anyone else’s” posts. I don’t know if it is. I used to be wiped coming home after a day in retail, managing a small music store, but it was different – more of a “I-hate-my-life-and-resent-everyone-who-walks-in-and-that’s-probably-not-a-good-career-sign” tired. I used to reach near-zombie states when I was in an ambitious local band back in the day, but that was a sweatier “thank-god-Whataburger-is-open-at-3-a.m.-but-I’ll-suffer-for-this-in-the-morning” type of exhaustion.
I’m not interested in trying to one-up anyone else’s tired. I lack the interest or the energy. But I would like to look for a moment at this particular flavor of semi-somnambulation – “teacher tired.”