My classroom looks great--it's all set for Shakespeare and Romeo and Juliet. My Shakespeare stations are up, my copies for the next week are made, and my lessons are almost set. (I'll get them typed up tomorrow during plan. My grades are all caught up, I've changed my board for tomorrow, and I am raring to go.
My house, ah, my house. I have loads of laundry, floors that haven't been swept/vacuumed in 2009, dusting that needs to be done, a desk piled to high heaven, thank you notes for Christmas still languishing, appointments to be made, grocery shopping to be done, knitting that desperately needs finishing, four new/newish books all going at once, and a husband that needs fed.
I feel contented at school. It's taken some hard work, but I am caught up, or ahead, in almost everything I need to do. It's fabulous. Home, not so much. I don't feel contented there, just burdened by the work. I wish I could go home and feel caught up and delighted to be there.
As I've typed this, though, I've thought of the real reason the disparity exists--at school, I am warm about 95% of the time. My classroom has its temperature issues, but most of the time it's pretty toasty. At home, I am warm when I am in the shower, or in bed under a pile of covers. Neither of those places is conducive to finishing off the work I have to do. Yep, that's right. I'm blaming this all on Mr. Cold and his frigid home. If only I could crank that temp up a few degrees, maybe I could accomplish the tasks I need to do! Or maybe that's just one more flimsy excuse.