Stretch the Minutes

A teachers first-person narrative rooted in real-life observation. Creative non-fiction.

The classroom light is already on when I arrive. Conveying a sense of duty to "get started". I turn and lock the door. I hear it click as I twist the lock. The room smells stale. My first move after I set my bag down is to grab an essential oil from the cupboard. Always something with cinnamon, it draws everyone in. The little cold glass bottle reads "apple pie". I eagerly twist the cap and dump and indiscriminate amount of drops before I hastily put the top of the diffuser back on.

Chairs hit the floor with a rhythmic thud. I feel the 15 minutes of prep time slipping away. Center choices stack up on the math table. The hum of the projector whizzes up. The tediously slow computer emits a soft buzz. As I wait for videos to load, I mute the computer so the sound doesn't jolt me out of the focused state I'm in. My routine is honed and effortless. Minor set backs are remedied with ease. Something was misplaced, or stopped working, fine. Pivot. Try something different or similar.

I check my phone. 7:58 AM. I have two more minutes. I switch on every mood light. I check the computer and begin a jazz soundtrack and keep the volume low. Urging one to pause to hear it. 8:00 AM. How many seconds can I get away with? I check myself in on my app. I drag my feet to the door. 8:00 AM. I open the door. The lights in my mind turn on. A smile spreads. "Good morning" escapes my lips lightly as the door cautiously opens.