Opening Letters

Holy Crap. Is It 5:30 Already?

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Eric Rasmussen, illustrated by Ryan Carpentier |

You will never guess what time first hour starts at Eau Claire’s public high schools. 7:35am. I can guess what you are thinking as you read that startlingly early time – “That Eric, he sure knows how to add humor to a piece of writing by ridiculously exaggerating the facts.” But I assure you, this time, there is no joke. 7:35am. And it’s not like other jobs, where employees can kill the first hour of a work day by checking their email, getting coffee, leaning on co-workers’ cubicles and shooting the breeze, or whatever. No, when that 7:35 bell rings, I have to metaphorically grab my students’ hands and lead them on a Peter Pan-style journey to the magical land of learning, dodging the pirates of inattention and side conversation, no matter how late into the previous evening I was up crocheting or doing Tae-Bo or any of the other fascinating and uncharacteristic things I often do.

Please pay special attention to this next declaration – I am not complaining. As a teacher I enjoy a ridiculously generous vacation schedule, and I know it. But, as nice as time off in the summer is, the transition back to school is quite challenging. The tectonic shift in schedule that accompanies my reacquaintance with a 5:30am alarm always puts some strain on my mood and my health, as evidenced by the whopper of a head cold that has already set in. I am happy to do it, as I love my job and genuinely enjoy going to work. But it’s still tough to become a worthless, whiny, snot-laden puddle every night at 7 just when the dishes need to be done (seriously, honey, I swear, just one or two more weeks and I’ll be adjusted and I’ll do the dishes every night through Christmas. Really.)

Now, after typing the previous paragraph, I feel really guilty. Sure it’s early, and yes, a 24-minute lunch period seems pretty short, and absolutely, as an adult I don’t relish the inability to use the bathroom when I want (teachers follow the bell schedule too), and yeah, correcting papers into the evenings and on most Sunday afternoons is never any fun, but summer vacation is really nice. I am very careful to avoid expressing any woes about my job around any non-teachers, because the yearly schedule is so enviable that any gripes about the daily and weekly schedule make me sound like a lazy, entitled butthead.


But I am slowly learning that guilt is a worthless emotion, so I am going to stand up for my right to whine about the aspects of my job that bother me just like the rest of the working world. And I hope everyone can do the same, because it seems, more than ever, everyone is experiencing schedule-induced guilt. Think about it. More demands of our time are being made than ever before, especially in the Chippewa Valley. Not only are our kids more involved, our work weeks increasing, and our vacation time shrinking, but there are more local events than ever that I’m sure we’d all love to attend. And since most of us can’t do it all, there is more and more guilt festering about everything we are missing.

The festering needs to stop. Don’t apologize that you can’t make it to a show because you have to work early in the morning. Don’t feel bad about missing a social gathering because your kid has a soccer game. Don’t beat yourself up over a missed concert because you would rather watch some Blossom and hit the hay. And most importantly, don’t ever let scheduling guilt be the reason you go to a concert or join some friends at the bar.

Here’s my theory, which, amazingly, rectifies why an opening letter in an entertainment magazine is essentially telling its readers that it’s OK to not attend local entertainment events. As soon as anything becomes an obligation, it ceases to be fun. For example, if you offered me a trip to the moon, I’d be like, “Awesome, I get to go to the moon!” But if you were my boss and said, “Eric, you have to go to the moon,” I’d be all like, “Damn it, I don’t wanna go to the moon, now I’m going to miss the new episode of America’s Got Talent. Man, I hope that big opera singer wins.” If guilt makes getting out of the house an obligation, then event attendance becomes a chore. If you can abandon the guilt, and make sure all of your entertainment outings are the ones you will really enjoy, then maybe we’ll see you at more events in the future.

So, no, I will not be making it to your artist’s reception, because I have to get up early tomorrow, which is not made better by my summer schedule. Oh, but you’re aware of the weeks off I get at Christmas and Spring Break? Fine, I’ll be there.