LITERARY DEVICE: Metaphor ~an Exaggeration on a theme.
...is created when water boils, as the water evaporates quickly and at a high temperature...then dissipates into the air, not as a trail of smoke or a cloud heavy with condensation. It simply disappears.
Two days ago, as I started yet another new school year, I was on a roll. One action and thought bubbled into another and overcame yet another, until I was at a full boil. Then, before I noticed what was happening, in came the steam.
First, the steam sat on the surface. It covered everything I was doing; everything I had planned. Steam floated, hovered actually-- waiting. But, true to metaphor, I kept working. Nothing would be stopped. Meetings ended as other meetings started. Staff members passed one another going down the hall and back again. We were buffeted about like maccaroni noodles in the pot. Finally, I made it home around 10 p.m. and sat in front of my monitor, eating my supper, a salad--leaf by leaf.
Sleep was calling. But the temperature never dropped.
This morning, I couldn’t wait to get to the school. My internal clock had by now shifted to autopilot. Somehow I had managed my way through the motions necessary to complete my morning routines. I found myself floating along the steady stream of cars heading towards my building. I was early, but in my mind, I was late.
The steam now swirled overhead. It hung over me like an ominous storm no matter what I did. Despite the short time with the students, I was overloaded. Not even the Bay of Naples during the eruption of Vesuvius comes close to the churning of the waves in my mind at this time. Time disappeared in the fog. I felt lost. I ran home, straining my eyes, still clinging to the hope that I would find more time.
But the steam was hot. The steam pushed me further. Too far.
I am now.