So last Sunday our nursery coordinator was in a fix. Both teachers for the three-year-olds were suddenly sick; could I fill in? Like, right now? I didn’t even stop to think. Teaching children is one of the things I do best, and being the coordinator of anything is what I do worst. I pity and admire those who take leadership roles, and besides, she was kind of desperate. What else could I say but yes? No lesson preparation, no time to think, no nothing. Dive in and teach, that’s what I do.
What I forgot was that I was stepping into a foreign germ pool. I never suspected that my hard-earned “Schoolteacher Immune System” might fail me, but it did. By Thursday morning I was laid low with the flu. My class schedule, my daily writing routine, blasted. Done. I was down for the count.Fever, blinding headaches, and Facebook. You know fever dreams, right? Those weird combinations of images and sounds, just real enough to make you sweat. You open the front door, say, and and find people picnicking on your front steps. You look at them, they look at you. What, their expressions say. And then you realize that this isn’t your house. Stuff like that. And worse, because this time my fever dreams included Facebook. Yes, “The Internet is Forever” Facebook. Weird posts, made by me. Even weirder comments, some from characters in my novel. Tell you what, I had some panicked moments in the middle of the night.
But maybe the Facebook thing is a mark of progress? My word for the year is ENGAGE, and I’ve been trying to do that on social media. Learn how to connect, how to become part of a community, how put myself out there. I would not have given myself high marks so far. But if Facebook has worked its way into my subconscious mind, to the point that when I am ill I dream about it, maybe–just maybe–I’m getting somewhere? What do you think?