As a teacher you can develop a particular species of performance anxiety. Gnawing often times boring worry that it isn’t happening. Nothing being learnt. What you thought a well considered pattern blows by, nary a zephyr. Your storm is guilt or shame, whatever species of affect failure requires of you. It has its own clasp and grasp upon you.
yesterday was a long ingday. Talking thinking replying responding standing arguing listening sorting travelling reading noting scribbling watching hoping wondering worrying.