I'm done teaching seminary. If you're confused, 'seminary' is Mormon for the-class-of-ten-teenagers-that-meets-at-my-house-every-morning-from-6:10-7-to-learn-about-the-Old-Testament.
When I say, I'm done, it doesn't mean I'm having a hard time, feeling pretty overwhelmed, and may or may not want to hurl myself out the one-and-a-half story window of a raised-ranch. I'm done means that's how I felt a month ago, so I went to my Bishop, asked him for access to said window, and he told me they'd find someone new.
And today was the last day.
Now Ben DP Sue K (CES), I don't know the details, (and yes, I'm
Typically, Mormons don't ask to be done with a job like this. They keep going, and going, and smiling, and being awesome, and faithful, and taking high blood pressure medication. But honestly, my umph was straight up gone. In the words of Dooce, "The Mormon Pioneers are not impressed."
But right now, on the record, I want to make it known that IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STUDENTS.If James and Maggie turn out to be like any one of those kids (Christa, Emma, Thomas, Otis, Caitlynn, Corena, Chelcie, Jabob, Teearna, Shelby), I'll consider myself a raging success of a mother. They were polite, hilarious, enthusiastic, and gave me tons of compliments. I love those kids.
The reason I decided to give it up is simple: I had too many things going on at once.
I've been waking up at 3:30 or 4 (not because I try to, but because I can't help it), teaching seminary, working a professional job, coaching60+ runners, momming, selling Cub Scout popcorn, morning meetings, night meetings...you get the idea. These days, Jared works until 6:30ish at night, and I kid you not, I was going to bed at 7:45.
I really, really, REALLY started missing my husband. Kind of.
I also got tired of pounding a Red Bull at 2 o'clock every afternoon. No, actually I've been loving it too much.
I also think I had two panic attacks in a day one time. Well, I don't know much about panic attacks, but if it feels like it's 700 degrees, you're about to drive off the road, and a huge man is squeezing your heart muscle with his bare hands, that's maybe what I had.
Something had to give. Luckily, my new church-job is teaching teenage Sunday School. Same kids, once a week, normal hour, blam. So perfect it makes me wanna fart.
In more better news, I won a race two weekends ago, and FINALLY got a decent picture out of it:
Well, it's a decent picture in my world.
It was a four mile race. Two miles up Sunday River ski mountain, and two miles down with a mud pit at the end. It was really freaking fun, but really, when is a medal not fun?
I've been a ginormous, lazy ass since that race, so it's time to get back on the exercise wagon. Now that seminary is over, I want to try to make running a more regular piece of my day again. My goal is to run at least thirty minutes every day between now and Thanksgiving.
Oh, and I'm running a biathlon this weeked with my mom. Because running and .22ing? Heaven has officially landed on earth.