Come to Jesus, Friend

I sat down the lead team teacher for a Come To Jesus talk today. (Both Narya and my eccentric former boss used that expression, and I am fond of it.) I explained that I had agreed to substitute teach for one week. Only later did I learn the teacher had quit and I had the added responsibility of making all the lesson plans, assigning the homework, etc. And then, it morphed into an open-ended gig. I asked what was going on.

Lead Teacher explained that he wasn't sure either. They had interviewed 7 people for the position, of whom 6 were no good. He said he would do all he could to keep me in the job. The kids love me. The faculty adores me. Apparently I'm a freakin' wunderkind in the classroom.

I said, Wellll...here's where I'm coming from. My goal for the year is to sub in as many different places at as many different grade levels as possible, to see what I like. I have a semester--one semester--in which to write a thesis. It happens to be this semester. I need to remain a per diem sub so that I can take days as needed to work on my thesis.

Lead Teacher tried, most charmingly, to talk me into the job, for which they might be hiring someone else anyway. I was not having it. I declined equally charmingly. I explained that I liked the kids and love the teaching team, but this did not work with my personal goals or timeline. (I refrained from ranting about how it SUCKED to be thrown additional responsibility for no extra pay without telling me up front that was happening, at a chaotic school where the students both behave and read at a level about 3 years younger than the actually are.)

I agreed to stay for 2 more weeks to make a smooth transition. I left feeling happier, lighter, and far left anxious at the end of the day.

My resolution when I turned 30 was, essentially, "I'm not putting up with crap." I think I have proven myself worthy of turning 31 in a few weeks.

Taking advantage or just poor communcation?

I'm doing a heck of a lot of work for this substitute gig. You know, the one where I was told after the fact that the teacher had quit and moved back to Ohio and that *I* would be making the lesson plans. Suddenly I am also supposed to coordinate with the 8th grade ELA teacher to ensure a smooth transition between 7th and 8th grades. All this, and I was never told in the first place that this is what I was getting into; and I still have not been invited to stay until the end of the year.

Also? I made a great connection for the kids--that "yo' mama" jokes are a form of hyperbole--but today I was told to cease and desist with using yo mama hokes as an instructional tool. I was told that a student was "very upset" and had "complained" about me, but I strongly suspect that this is a lie. I believe the other teachers simply found this somehow inappropriate.

I need to have a little heart-to-heart with the team lead teacher tomorrow. I intended for this spring to be a time of subbing in lots of places and at lots of grade levels to see what I like; I moreover intended to be able to take days off as needed to work on my thesis. I feel blindsided, and it's making me both anxious and resentful.

Am I overreacting? I'm sure they must think they are giving me a great opportunity...right?

Bait-and-Switch

Oh, dear.

First, a big chink of my thesis is due Feb. 3. This is according to my own timeline, granted, but I have made the timeline and, dammit, I'm sticking to it. If I don't finish my thesis this semester, they charge me $400 when I do turn it in.

Then, a freelance proofreading project started running behind. Now the last batch is also due Feb. 3.

And on top of all that, I was asked to fill in for a teacher all next week. I accepted. And then, later? They remembered to mention that, Oh by the way, that teacher quit, and have fun making the lesson plans!

Dude. DUDE.

Hail to the Chief

I am so, so happy about President Obama's inauguration. I felt proud, moved.

Did anyone else catch that he included "nonbelievers" in his address? Has any U.S. president remembered or acknowledged the nonbelievers before?

On a trivial note, I cannot hear "Hail to the Chief" without hearing Paul Reiser singing, "I am the den-tist, I've come to pull your tooth out".

For the record

I feel better after a good night's sleep, 15 minutes of lightbox therapy, and a breakfast of steel cut oats made overnight in the Crock Pot, topped with a poached egg. Rest! Light! B vitamins! Here we go!

Happy Mid-January

I am seriously hating life these days. It's all winter depression. I feel guilty for feeling so gawdawful, given that my life is objectively quite good.

Restricting food intake + SAD + PMS = one miserable kStyle.

Wake me up in June, would you?

Assorted.

1. Trader Joe's flatbread with wild mushrooms, truffles, and mozzarella is so good it's almost ridiculous. It does not look impressive when frozen, but cook it up and it is an absolute delight.
2. It's freaking cold. Every time I go outside, it feels like the little hairs in my nostrils are going to freeze and break off. The bright, bright sunshine is a terrible tease.
3. There are now more needles on the floor than on our poor Christmas tree. We'd extended its life so it could lend joviality to last Friday's board games party. It did a marvelous job, but now the poor tree is tired and must be laid to rest. Also? We are tired of the cats puking up needles. We KNOW what you're doing, CATS.
4. "John, I'm Only Dancing" has been in my head for 3 days.