Tempted

"Tempted and tried, deep down inside, I can't deny that I'm tempted." This song runs through my head every morning on my way to work, but not in the context Marty Stuart intended (I assume). No, for me the temptation is to drive past my exit and keep going up the road -- to the airport -- and jet out of town. I let the fantasy continue even as I turn on the road to my university, just two exits up the "beltway" -- a term I can't take seriously as it relates to Jacksonville; I learned to drive on the Washington Beltway, which is a little more crowded. I took driver's ed in the summer, and we literally learned by driving on the Beltway. If you've been there, you can appreciate that; if not, I can't explain.

Anyway, I like my job. I love my students -- most of them, at least -- and I think I'm good at what I do. I will never make a lot of money doing this job, but there are other rewards that mean more to me. But I have to say, no matter how much one loves his/her job, everyone is at risk of burnout. This semester has been especially conducive to my burning out. And so I dream about vacation, and about just skipping class and zooming off to some fascinating destination, foreign or domestic -- or both. I have not been up north for a year and a half -- the longest I've gone without a visit in the seventeen years I've lived in Florida. I haven't been anywhere since May -- well, okay, there was that five-day jaunt with the family to Sanibel in celebration of my son's college graduation -- and I'm getting major cabin fever.

My compromise will come this weekend when I go to a town not far away for a Vintage Market Days festival (or something like that). I bought the tickets ages ago on Groupon for just a few dollars, and if it looks good on Saturday when I go, I'll stay over until Sunday. My grading-laziness has had to be set aside this week as I get papers returned to students, but I'll have a new batch starting on Monday. If I play my cards right, I'll be "essay-free" this weekend and have a chance to play with nothing hanging over my head. Green Cove Springs is not what I consider a magical destination, but for now it will have to do. I'll resist temptation until the spring -- then I'm outta here.