Gigantic Pumpkin

I’ve never really woken up today. I have a very vague memory of getting dressed and packing up my things this morning, but I don’t recall laying in bed beforehand, hitting the snooze button, and waiting for my multiple of five. I think these must be the moments when my waking up actually occurs, so not remembering them today has stuck with me all day. I didn’t just feel zombie-like stumbling around my kitchen for breakfast, but I felt zombie-like through all of my classes, lunch, duty, and class tonight. Not bad. Not ill. Not like I needed to do things over. Just zombie-like—ready to crawl back into my bed and return to sleep until the next violin played to signal that it is time to wake up and dance.

Like yours, I would guess, my to-do list is stupidly long. My to-do list is always stupidly long. I have things to do for home, for school, for church, for graduate school, for my family, for my friends, and for the charities and organizations that I support. If I catch up with one then I fall behind with everything else but if I try to keep up with everything at once then something inevitably still falls behind. So I just do my best and hope that I don’t miss something major—like a jeans day. Missing jeans day would be such a waste.

Recently, my school computer, Willamina, has been so kind as to not close the 40 or so tabs on the 6 or so different windows of Google Chrome that I use to teach my classes. It’s been nice not to have to open the same tabs day in and day out and it’s been nice not having to cringe every time a video opens, wondering if a commercial for Poo-Pourri or a violent movie is going to pop up for the kids to see. But today all of my windows were closed when Willamina woke up. I guess maybe she didn’t want to wake up either. So there I was during my planning period today trying to get ready for Kindergarten, 3rd, and 4th grades, but I was in such a zombie-like state that all I wanted to do was eat potato chips and yawn. Evidently zombies like potato chips.

Nonetheless, I drudged forth, and as I opened pictures of a pumpkin and a jack-o-lantern for my Kindergarteners, I decided that I’d look for a short little video clip on pumpkins or jack-o-lanterns. After all, the pictures I’d been showing wouldn’t pin to my Pinterest page, and if the links don’t pin to my Pinterest page, then how am I supposed to find them on the days when Willamina doesn’t properly wake up? :-)

Then it happened. I woke up. For 10 minutes. For 10 minutes, I alertly and focusfully watched videos about growing gigantic pumpkins. Gigantic pumpkins fascinate me! They look like monsters from outer space who fly themselves to earth and then are so tired from their flight that they just stay plopped where they land. They’re huge and grotesque and warty and orange and green and white and so extremely cool! I don’t have any idea what their purpose is—other than winning county and state fairs or making cool little pumpkin boats—but I think it would be fun to grow one…and thanks to my 10 minutes of alertness today, I know a little of how to make that happen—not that I will make it happen—I just know the theory of what it takes—and I know that my Kindergarteners are as fascinated by gigantic pumpkins as I.

Some days, friends, we have it together. We make such huge dents in our to do list that we go to bed feeling like we’ve almost busted the piñata that will certainly burst soon and provide us with moments of great delight. Other days, though, we blindly and aimlessly swing our sticks in the air, completely missing the piñata all together.

Today was the latter for me. Not bad. Not overly frustrating. Not like I need to do things over. Just kind of there. Like a beautifully ugly gigantic pumpkin.

And the neat thing? It’s all perfectly okay.