Knocking, Knocking on My Chamber Door

It’s starting.

I can feel it.

The desire to stay up late Sunday night, to put off going to bed as long as possible.

Because the sooner I go to sleep, the sooner the day arrives. If I stay up, the day won’t come, right?

I can feel it.

The irritation, the urge to snap and snarl at my husband, at my kid, Monday morning, because it’s Monday and it’s here, and I have to go back.

I really fucking hate being a teacher.