As the heavy cast over my eyes fades and a glimmer of light rises over the horizon, I find myself feeling more at peace with the fact that I'll have a substitute for two days. The worst thing for me about being a teacher is relinqishing control of your classroom over to a complete stranger, hoping that the lesson plans you spent a decent amount of time on are completed when you walk back through the door to room 207. The secondary complaint I have with agreeing to chaperone a trip to New York City with a group of seniors is that of course when I'm not in school and I already spent the time planning lessons, school is cancelled due to snow.

But, I digress. I guess I'll still have fun perusing one of my favorite cities, seeing a Broadway show, marvelling at the numerous and seemingly out-of-place cathedrals, as well as revisitng a few tourist attractions like the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. However, when I travel with a group of people - and yes, my definition of a group is anything above 1 other person, I recalibrate and switch into mother hen mode.

Yes, ladies and gents, I am the crazy lady with the giant purse, and while at times it weighs down my petite frame, I will never refrain from carrying what I deem "the essentials" around with me everywhere I go. My oversized, yet arguably still attractive bag holds within its form items ranging from Dramamine to snacks to 7 different lip balms in case I'm feeling something a bit different than the norm, to tissues, a fidget spinner to curb my fidgeting hands, etc. Basically, if you ever find yourself in need of a bandaid, a mint, or hand sanitizer, I got your back.

The reason I go overboard with "the essentials" is because I am by nature an anxious person who will worry about everyone and anyone. And since I am a chaperone technically responsible for 37 students, I'm going to be a nervous wreck. But, I guess I'll survive, right?

Another point of contention is the fact that I blend in with the masses at school already, still at times mistaken for a student. So, I'm thrilled about that fact as I embark to a city significantly larger than the one in which I live. As all you lovely readers can see, the sarcastic trill behind my words has not vanished, nor shall it ever, because sometimes it is just the only way to get my point across. I find myself slipping from my teaching voice into my more relaxed sarcastic voice more often, and for most of my freshmen, the sarasm skims their varying haristyles and leaps out the window. One day, the sarcasm will stick. Some argue that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, and I will disagree until the day I die.

While sarcasm and caffeine course through my veins, nothing can curb the ache for a time when distance doesn't rip me open from the inside out. Everything now just feels like a distraction, no matter how hard I try to fully live in the moment. Recently, I wrote a little blurb about the very nature of distance as it exists in my life this year. I find myelf in this constant whirlpool, similar to Charybdis as she sucks ships into her underwater tornado. I yearn for a physical feeling of being whole in my relationship, yet I feel as if I've traversed the outskirts of that very same whirlpool to breach the divide between myself and God. One of my resolutions this year was to essentially reestablish a relationship, and before the new year started, I began to meditate on thoughts of Him and how he reveals himself to me in my own life. And, what I realized was that in those moments when I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders in every obstacle placed in my path, I did not realize part of the strength in me was His love reaching out. Only when I later looked back on these moments and let the philosophical questions roam free did I find the very answers I was searching for.

Now, every time I feel the weight of the world - the distance, to be exact - weighing on every thought and every action, I take a deep breath, and I think about all of the gifts in my life. I think about how lucky I am to have been led to this very position as an English teacher, where I get to meet and interact with so many talented and genuine and unique students everyday. I think about how grateful I am for my family and friends for being constants in my life when certain factors change pace. I think about how getting through each week is made significantly easier knowing that notifications bombard my phone all day and a phone call and a facetime await me in the evening. I focus on the love, because His love through the love of those around me is the fuel in my tank keeping me afloat on the water, even when the whirlpool picks up speed. I revel in the eventual calm after the storm and take hold of the moment, and hopefully this weekend I can embrace every second before it fades. Until tomorrow ...