One of the nice things about teaching is that every day is different. At the same time, though, the year rolls along in utterly predictable ways. Mid-August to early September is complete chaos followed by a period of relative stability as the semester hits the doldrums of late-September and October, picking up steam again towards finals. Things quiet down again in January. And then the spring semester follows the same general tidal flow of the fall. Summer is this strange, indefinable period, busy or not, depending on one's preference for summer school classes and the extra paychecks that come with them.
At any rate, I'm currently in the midst of the fall-semester-chaos time. Interestingly, the classroom these days becomes a relative oasis of calm. Granted, I'm still struggling to learn people's names and falling back on teacherly shorthand to call on people: "Tall guy!" "Barely-dressed girl!" "Skater-dude with hat!" "Stinky!" But at least classes afford the opportunity to work from a script developed and perfected over years of teaching. When I come back to my office, I'm besieged by a neverending series of small problems that, despite the relative insignificance of any one of them, cumulatively become overwhelming. For the last week and a half, I have been constantly busy every day and yet feel as though I've accomplished nothing.
October can't come soon enough.