It’s spring somewhere

spring training ball

It’s just not here.

The windchill this AM when I got on the bus was -38. I’ve got a stoic bunch of ND kids on this bus. They can take a lot of cold. But we’ve been below zero for most of February and March is predicted to be more of the same. So the kids are getting a little crabby. When the windchill gets to these levels (actual temp was -15), the bus never really warms up. The rear portion of the bus, where the teens cram themselves to escape grades K-5, is like a meat locker. One of my sixth grade girls brings a polar fleece blanket bigger than herself and cocoons herself for the entire ride.

I wish I was in FL or AZ, watching some baseball and getting some sun. Maybe next year.

The snow blower has been getting plenty of work. Even though it saves a lot of labor shoveling, it still takes a lot of oomph to force the thing through spots where the tires catch or spin. My lower back and my shoulders are stiff and sore. Between the aches from driving bus and those accumulated battling snow, I’m hobbling like an old man. Then again, I am an old man.

So I have reached a half-ass epiphany. It is time to take my life back from this regimen. So I am aggressively icing everything that hurts, taking ibuprofen for the inflammations, and stretching as best I can. Because I’ve been somewhat sleep deprived (no one should have to get up at 5:25 every weekday), nothing much gets done. But I’m pushing back as best I can on that as well, making the most of my time rather than numbly staring at the computer or TV. It may be that by the end of this school year I’ll feel sort of human, rather than the wretched waste I was last year.

I am thinking that this will be the last year of driving bus. I’m sick of dealing with parents, some of my kids, the wear and tear on my body, and the numb state I reach every Friday. In the words of Danny Glover, “I’m getting too old for this shit.” I have no idea of what I’ll do but it won’t be getting up before dawn.

And I will have more time for things that matter. Including baseball.

About jeroljohnson

I guess I'm the crying on the inside kind of clown
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