Time as a Commodity

What's worth my time? What's my time worth?

I began thinking about these questions as I was cleaning out and organizing my teaching files. In an effort to not store boxes of papers that I'll never look at again, I've been consolidating the numerous lesson plans, units, student papers, articles, and other teaching related papers that I've saved over the past few years. Now I have most of my teaching units in nice, neat 3-ring binders so if I ever teach Animal Farm or Romeo and Juliet or my other units again, I don't have to start from scratch, and I won't have to search through boxes of papers to find my ideas. I also came across a unit I developed in college. The thing has to be at least 300 pages. As I look at it now, I will probably never teach that unit, but somehow I just could not throw it away. Those papers represent the only all-nighter I had to pull in college. They represent hours upon hours digging through the stacks in the ISU library. They show how I chose to spend a lot of time during the last month before student teaching. During my senior year, I decided it was worth my time to spend hours in the library, in front of my computer, and with my classmates to create this teaching unit that I will never use. Granted, that unit earned me a passing grade, which contributed to a college degree, which contributed to a teaching license, which contributed to a teaching job...and so forth. How did I decide that developing that unit was worth that much time? What from all my time spent teaching over the past few years will have any lasting worth? Why did I feel it was important to spend my time organizing my lesson plans and recycling old papers this past week? Is it worth my time to write this blog?

Time is a commodity I spend all too easily. How would I spend my time if I budgeted my time as carefully as I budget my money? What would my days (and nights) look like if I truly considered the lasting value of the activities I chose to do?