Day 9

I slept surprisingly well last night on the exceptionally uncomfortable ground. There were no dogs, only the cicadas who lulled me into a deep sleep. So deep a sleep, that I had an anxiety dream about going back to work. Before summer started, I interviewed for a history position at the school where I am currently working. You’ve been reading what I write. You know how much I love history. Not only would I be much happier teaching history, imagine how incredible I’d be in the classroom, sharing with students what I’ve shared with you the last few summers. My colleagues told me I would never get the history position because English teachers are harder to come by. Administrators want to keep me where they need me, especially since there were already many English vacancies in the district. Kati seemed to agree with my colleagues. But I said, wouldn’t they want to keep me happy, because if I was happy, I would be more likely to stay. Kati said they don’t care about my happiness, the administration never does. In my dream, I definitely did not get the job. My schedule was full of English classes, classes I did not feel confident enough to teach because they were different than the ones I had taught last year. In the dream, they just seemed really wacky, but I don’t remember exactly what they were. I asked the head of the history department why she didn’t want me, and she said she just didn’t get a good feel for me in the interview. I pressed her for a better reason, but she couldn’t give me one. Again, it was just a dream, a manifestation of my anxiety, and what I want most. If I don’t get the history job, I will have to re-double my efforts to find a history job elsewhere.

In the dream, it was suddenly the first day of school and I was trying to get to work, but I couldn’t get there. Everything kept tripping me up. I couldn’t find clothes to wear. They were still packed away in boxes, and I feverishly tore them open only to find summer attire. Unable to find anything appropriate, I wore torn shorts. It was all I had. Better than going to work naked. Then I got on the road, and there was traffic. Road construction diverted traffic and I couldn’t get through to where I needed to be. Somewhere in the dream, G3 also needed to get to school, but he couldn’t get there either. He had to take a subway, which didn’t make sense because we don’t live near a subway. But the subway wasn’t running, plus he hadn’t done his homework and didn’t want to get in trouble. The two of us, somehow, ended up together, not going to school, but sitting in the car frustrated and angry. G3 was sulking and Kati called me, yelling at me for not being serious enough about teaching. That’s when I woke up.

G3 was still sleeping when I woke up, so I got out of the tent and read for a while. When G3 did wake up, I suggested a hike but he didn’t want to walk. Our stay here was supposed to be about hiking and swimming, but G3 only wants to swim. That’s fine. He took his chair down to the water and was going to read while I hiked along a trail near the campground. Like yesterday, I was mindful that G3 was by himself, so I did not hike for long. I was out for just under an hour and a half. Again, I had just the cicadas to keep me company. The Rock Creek Trail wasn’t particularly interesting or pretty, but at least I got some exercise.

When I got back to the campsite, I was so hot and sticky and sweaty, that I was ready to jump in to the water, but first we need to eat. I boiled water for breakfast. We had cream of wheat cereal, hot chocolate, and coffee. We then went swimming. It’s nice to have a rather relaxing day—in the water—to break up the driving and sightseeing.

Well that was disappointing. We signed up for a Ranger Program to learn about wildlife in the creek, but when we got there, the pavilion was empty. I initially went to the wrong place, but realized it relatively quickly. I asked G3 to look at the map, since I was driving, and he directed me to the correct place. We were only 10 minutes late. We should have easily been able to catch the program, but there weren’t even cars parked in the parking lot. I wonder if it had been canceled due to the extreme heat.

G3 said he was only slightly disappointed. Since we couldn’t do the program, we drove to a swimming area that had a rock you could jump off into the water. G3 had been wanting to do that since we got here on Friday and he saw other kids jumping. Yes, I too jumped. It was fun, but not nearly as awesome as Houghton Falls in Wisconsin. That is the ultimate jumping and swimming spot. Here it is very crowded, more so than the lake where we are camping. And the rock isn’t as high, the swim not as intense as it is in Superior. But G3 enjoyed it anyway. He must have jumped three dozen times or more. While jumping he seemed to have made a few friends. I had been reading, but when I looked up at one point, he and a group of boys had moved to the side of the stream and seemed to be hanging out. I would say playing, but at 13, G3 would reprimand me for using such a childish word. However, they did look like they were horsing around and having a good time.

We stopped at the rock for what I thought was going to be a short swim, but G3 appeared to be having so much fun, I didn’t want to call him away. I just wished I hadn’t left the chairs at the campsite. There was nowhere for me to sit in the shade, so I ended up standing for nearly three hours. I did get to read which was nice. With all the driving, I haven’t had time to read. I made up for some of it today. It just would have been more comfortable sitting.

It is Sunday night, so most of the campers have cleared out of the campground. There was hardly anyone here when we got back to the campsite, and there was nobody in the lake. It was quiet and peaceful and so I went for a swim—alone. G3 had had enough of the water by then.

We are now sitting around the dying campfire. G3 is reading, and when I finish writing, I will do the same. The place definitely feels deserted this evening. Just us—and my friends, the cicadas.