Routine defines high school. Every day mimics the last to a depressingly monotonous degree. Every day I see the same couples PDA’ing in the exact same corners, as if sectioned off exclusively for them. I contemplate taking a different route from newspaper to sociology, but I suspect if I do the universe’s balance will flip and cause a hurricane in China.
My alarm wakes me up at 5:30 a.m. at which time I ignore its high-pitched buzzing and hit snooze. This goes on for an hour- no exaggeration. When I’m finally conscious enough to recall my mother’s maiden name and what year it is, I reach for my iPhone and scroll through the flood of social media I missed out on in my sleep. I’m able to get dressed and ready in a prompt ten minutes. Skill. Then I grab something for breakfast, jump in my car and am dropped off at school where the rest is a bit of a blur.
This happens five days a week.
It is often difficult to decipher one day from the previous when the school day is a uniform nine-period schedule. I see the same people, hear the same salutations and take the same routes from class to class every day like clockwork. I eat an apple every day for lunch and walk the same B-line to the trash can. And every day I double check to make sure I didn’t place the core in the recycling bin.
Most of the time I can’t believe I’ve been doing this for 11 years (12 if you count kindergarten). I feel like a veteran of public education and I am completely ready to retire.
A photo of me on my first day of kindergarten depicts me as a five year old with a yellow lunch box sobbing at the realization- I was selling my soul to reading, writing and arithmetic for the next twelve years. No more morning weekday cartoons in sweats. Just a repetitious pattern where days bleed together and I look forward to the weekend as the light at the end of the tunnel (which leads to yet another tunnel where the cycle begins yet again).
I keep reminding myself of graduation (if a year and a half is a reasonable time to start counting down). I won’t see the same faces, have to wait impatiently behind students who feel the need to have a minute-long conversation in the halls or see freshmen swap tongues in the cafeteria.
