This week’s Torah portion (the section of the Torah that we read each week) is the story of Noah and the Great Flood. Most people know the gist of this tale – G-d gets fed up with mankind’s bullshit and decides to drown them all and the whole world with it, except for Noah who’s apparently a good bro, and his family, and pretty much all the animals. (Some say that animals like unicorns and dragons were deemed not suitable to board the Ark and that’s why we don’t have them around anymore. …or maybe my imagination made that up…I’m not sure now. But I digress.)

So, Noah builds a big ass boat and gets his family and the animals onto it, and no sooner does he seal the doors of the Ark than it starts to rain. And rain. And rain and rain. And rain some more. For forty days and forty nights straight it rains, until all the earth and the creatures within it are consumed by water, except for those on the Ark. The rain finally stops, and the world is flooded. Noah and his peeps and the animals bob along in this massive boat, the ultimate of unknowns before them, just waiting it all out as best they can. For weeks and weeks they wait, unable to effect any sort of change to their circumstances. All they can do is stay afloat.

Rarely does my daily life align so much with the week’s Torah portion as it seems to do this week. It has been a nonstop week of things that needed doing. As I write this at 10ish on a Thursday night, thus far from Monday morning onward I have done the following (though it is not quite in chronological order):

1) Taught full days of school with barely any planning time to prep for the week’s lessons, because planning hours have been reduced or replaced with covering for others. (Not complaining at all, it just is what it is – it gives a sense of constant “go go go” without a chance to take a breath.)

2) Visited the Rabbi while he sits shiva (may he and his family find comfort).

3) Had a late evening therapy session (the one thing I did for me this week – not exactly “unwinding”, but I’ll take it!).

4) Planned and/or cooked dinner each night this week. (My wonderful husband cooked on Monday while I had my therapy session, but the meal was still something I planned.)

5) Hustled after school to get prep done as best I could (since I couldn’t do much during school, see #1), in the limited time I had between end of school and when I have to pick up my daughter from daycare.

6) Took daughter to dance class, which is across town.

7) Made a half dozen follow-up phone calls to find a new daycare or preschool placement for my daughter since her current daycare is closing in like a month.

8) Nearly broke my brain trying to figure out the Public Service Loan Forgiveness program, so I could apply to it – I thought I wasn’t eligible, but it turns out I am, which is quite exciting but also quite a lot to get in place, Oy.

9) Made my Halloween costume.

10) Made headway on cleaning the house for a Halloween party we’re throwing for daughter and her friends on Saturday.

11) Went grocery shopping.

12) Wrote recommendation letter for friend trying to enter the police force.

13) Substitute taught a first-hour class session on Jewish ethics for the Tuesday night Jewish community high school program, in addition to my usual second-hour class session I’m teaching.

14) Finally got caught up on what Antisemitic crap Kanye West has been spewing, as prep for substitute teaching Tuesday night, see #13. (This will come in handy for Sunday school in a few days.)

15) Bathed daughter.

16) Helped daughter regulate emotions during an hour-long tantrum about cleaning up her toys in the living room.

17) Took care of geriatric dog by getting up with her several times overnight several nights a week to do business or get water.

18) Got up with daughter overnight several times when she awoke for various reasons.

19) Showered. (Oh, okay, I guess that one was for me too.)

20) Supported friends in need when they needed a listening ear or a writer’s pair of eyes.

21) Met with or spoke to students’ parents to address concerns or answer questions.

22) Sent and responded to many emails.

23) Finally got rid of that birthday gift my mother sent to me.

24) Owned up to a mistake I made in being unintentionally too harsh with a colleague.

25) Added some new books my students wanted to the classroom library in 4th grade.

26) Drew a gigantic Ark for our school assembly this week about the Torah Portion, as part of my efforts helping to plan the activities for said assembly in partnership with another teacher.

27) Washed a lot of dishes, and emptied and reloaded dishwasher, several times.

Surely there’s even more that I can’t think of at this point. And the week isn’t over yet. It will continue to be nonstop for me until Sunday afternoon at the earliest, when maybe I’ll get to rest a little while, before another nonstop day on Monday thanks to Halloween (fun, but nonstop nonetheless). …Gosh, it sounds so much like complaining to me, listing all that out, and that isn’t my intent. I feel guilty about even feeling grouchy or tired from any of it, in light of the devastation the rabbi and his family are feeling with their recent loss. It’s just that lately I haven’t been able to escape that feeling of how, to use an apropos phrase, when it rains, it pours.

Lately, it feels like all I can do to just stay afloat.

When the rains ceased, Noah eventually sent out a dove to scout out where there might be any dry land. The first time, the dove returned emptyhanded; the second time, he brought back an olive branch, which showed plants and trees were growing again. The third time Noah released the dove, it didn’t come back at all. (We are supposed to interpret this as the dove having found an opportunity to settle down and build a nest, I think, which symbolizes that it was time for humans to disembark and do the same.)

Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just exhausted. And, as I tell everyone else, so too must I tell myself, just because others are hurting, doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to hurt too. It isn’t yes, but; it’s yes, and. Just because someone else is in pain, doesn’t mean there’s less allotment for your own pain. It’s not pie.

It doesn’t feel like it’s torrentially raining on me anymore, but I’m still just doing my best to stay afloat. If anybody needs me, I’ll be over here, bobbing along on my Ark, waiting for a dove with an olive branch to show up.