I feel really emotionally tired. Also physically tired. These feelings probably feed on each other.
Maybe it's from starting this new job teaching English. I really love it. But it is really hard in some ways. For example, having a completely blank* schedule for nearly what, 7 years now, it feels strangling/suffocating to have a work schedule dictated by someone else. But on the other hand, I think it's as miniscule a feeling as it could possibly be, because literally I pick all the time slots. I'm only required to be available to work 7.5 hours/week. I CAN work much more than that. How much I actually work is entirely dependant on whether the Chinese parents like my profile and book me as a teacher.
I've had some great success. I have a repeat student and I've only worked what, two weeks for this company. I am just so glad that I decided to start right now, during the Chinese New Year when it's slower. It would be a rough transition otherwise.
Maybe the hours, getting up early, being forced to go to bed early, are killing me. I think I would be a lot happier and more productive if I could somehow manage to consistently be asleep in bed by 10 pm or so. This has always been an elusive goal. I don't know how to achieve it.
I think that maybe part of the weight is a tremendous feeling of guilt that I keep carrying around, like… like worries about being a good parent, am I spending enough time with Danny, is our house in order, am I a good housewife, is it really OK for me to spend so much time focused on my personal goals or is that selfish, do I even care if it is, etc.
But I'm so bored with the housework. It undoes itself in five minutes. Obviously we have to have a sanitary living space. And it's important to me to have a clean kitchen and family room. But I am not my mom. My house will never be as clean as hers because I care a lot more about arranging my mental world than arranging my physical world. And of course now, I've completely fallen in love with Czech. I have to learn it.
But it's very frustrating. My time disappears so quickly into thin air and my progress is indecipherable. My mouth hurts from using muscles we never use when speaking English. I have headaches all the time. I feel frustrated. I feel like a moron. I feel sad and pathetic. And I've been here before, so I feel sad and pathetic about feeling sad and pathetic, because I know it's part of the deal with learning another language (at least for me. Maybe my life would be better if I didn't care about feeling intelligent.)
Also, I feel a lot of pressure to be a helpful teacher to these kind Czech souls who graciously let me into their worlds so I can practice, and who of course in turn want some help learning English. It's hard to say, “I really enjoy talking with you, but I just really don't want to talk right now to anybody…” But what is the root of that excuse? Feeling that speaking is merely an exercise in frustration? That's a lame excuse. I shouldn't let that matter. Because I don't have enough time? That's another lame excuse. Au contraire, I have too *much* time. Hence the problem.
I suppose it’s just balance that I'm seeking, and everything will be better with more sleep.
If I can somehow manage to get some...
*well… It's never blank. It's just that working as a stay home mom is a lot like being your own boss. You're in charge of your schedule.
It's going to be okay. It really is. It's slightly humiliating to realize that I have to go back and master some basic things like...the freaking alphabet...but that is okay.
I would give anything to be able to learn this language. So a little humiliation is nothing in the long term.