Writing After a Bad Teaching Day: Rage, Exhaustion, and the Blank Page

I had some serious writing plans for tonight. I was ready. I actually had notes to work off of. I had a plan.

And then I had a bad teaching day.

Not just a bad day. I had the Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day type of day. And let me tell you, even contemplating writing after a bad teaching day just made my bad day feel worse.

Writing after a bad teaching day can feel impossible.

Not “I’m tired” tired.
Not “long day” tired.
But the kind of tired that crawls into your bones and whispers, Why did you think you could do anything else tonight?

Today was one of those days.

I was trying to get my students logged on to a testing platform to take the citizenship test, which is a graduation requirement. Enter the most user-unfriendly platform ever. Nobody could log on. Then, of course, there was a fire drill.

The fire drill I did not get a heads up about because Verizon is having a major outage. To say I was crashing out would be a complete and total understatement.

Chef’s kiss.
Craptacular cake completed.

And then you came home.
And the writing was still there, staring at you.

So here’s the real question teacher-writers don’t talk about enough.

When it comes to writing after a bad teaching day, do you try to separate yourself from the chaos first?
Or do you use the stress, anger, and exhaustion as fuel?

Writing After a Bad Teaching Day Requires Honesty, Not Calm

Somewhere along the way, we absorbed the idea that writing requires serenity. Soft lighting. Gentle vibes. A peaceful mind.

That is adorable.
And wildly unrealistic for teachers.

Teaching is loud. Emotional. Overstimulating. It demands constant decision-making and emotional regulation. By the time the day ends, your brain feels like it ran a marathon while juggling flaming clipboards.

Waiting to feel calm before you write often means not writing at all.

You do not need to be calm to create.
You need to be honest.

Rage Writing Is Still Writing

Anger is energy. Frustration is momentum. Exhaustion strips away the performative nonsense and leaves the raw stuff behind.

When systems fail and teachers are expected to compensate endlessly, that anger is not a flaw. It is information.

Writing after a bad teaching day does not have to be pretty.
It does not have to be wise.
It does not have to be publishable.

It just has to be true.

Many writers intentionally use strong emotions as creative fuel, a practice often discussed in writing craft communities like
Writer’s Digest.

You Do Not Have to Leave the Day at the Door

A lot of advice says you should “leave work at work.”

Sometimes that’s healthy.
Sometimes it’s a lie.

Teaching days like this one do not politely stay at school. They follow you home in your shoulders, your jaw, your clenched teeth while making dinner.

Instead of trying to banish the day, you can let it onto the page.

Write the absurdity.
Write the frustration.
Write the exhaustion of caring in a system that keeps breaking.

If writing helps you process stress, you may also find comfort in exploring
writing as self-care and its connection to mental health.

The Transition From Teacher to Writer Can Be Small

This is not about bubble baths or aesthetic routines.

• Sitting in your car for two minutes before going inside
• Changing clothes like you are shedding a skin
• Writing one angry paragraph with no intention of keeping it

The goal is not peace.
The goal is permission.

Some Days You Write Through the Stress. Some Days You Write Because of It.

Both are valid.

Some nights the rage pours straight onto the page.
Some nights you write something completely unrelated because you need escape.
Some nights you write nothing at all, and that is also allowed.

Do not let the idea that you must feel better stop you from writing.

You are allowed to write tired.
You are allowed to write angry.
You are allowed to write after a fire drill, a technology meltdown, and a telecom apocalypse.

If you can teach through chaos, you can write through it too.

And sometimes, writing after a bad teaching day produces the most honest work you will ever do.

But if it doesn’t, that’s okay.

And if the thought of writing after a bad day of teaching, or a bad day of doing whatever your job is, feels completely unbearable, then don’t write. Curl up in your fuzziest blanket like a giant burrito and let the day fade away.