Two sleepless nights with a screaming baby and I was a wreck at work today. Crawled into my office, slumped in a chair, wheezing (I’m coming off a cold), and stared at the computer screen for 5 minutes, feeling too weak to press the power button.

Got up, knocking off a pile of papers, and started shuffling laboriously towards the classroom. Saw a colleague but couldn’t greet him because of feeling too exhausted to make any sounds. 

Dragged myself across the threshold into the classroom. . .
. . . and it was like somebody had changed the battery. For the next 1,5 hours, I was running around the classroom, explaining, answering questions, cracking jokes, lighting up the room, and feeling as energetic as ever. 

Once the class was over, I was back to being a wreck. For those who know me in person: I didn’t even have any lunch. Have you ever known me to miss a meal? For anything? I did today. 

Teachers are weird. We’ll rise from our deathbeds if there’s half a chance to explain the Spanish Civil War or the imperfect subjunctive one last time.

Klara is teething. Or at least I think she is. That’s the only explanation I’ve found, although I’m yet to see any teeth. But I haven’t slept much last night and the night before, and I feel like my legs are wobbly and my head is filled with sand. 

People can’t get off the Trump needle, busily retweeting, reposting, and squeezing every drop of outrage from whatever he said this time. The election is long over but they are still wriggling in a constant paroxysm of, “Oh, how shocking! Can you believe he said that?!?”

The endless descriptions of how horrified, terrified, exhausted and tortured the Trumpian tweet du jour made them feel is a substitute for any actual political or civic engagement.