Settling the Heck Down

So I fell off the NaBloPoMo wagon. Hard. In what would have been my tenth straight year. Part of me feels really bad about that, like it's a sign that I've given up on the only type of writing I've ever achieved something approximating success at, like I had a chance to keep something really meaningful going and I blew it. The other part of me thinks, Hmm, what else have I never done in any of those other nine Novembers?: Driven to New York and back regularly to visit my killing-it-at-college son; started a second job; hung out in Cabo for a week reconnecting with my long-suffering husband, drinking really excellent tequila, sexy-dancing with a nurse and a PR VP, riding a camel and being to all reports being a hands-down fabulous show wife; I've run out of things and I feel like there should be at least one more, but you get the gist.

So, as I said one year, sometimes you do it well and sometimes you just do it. As it turns out, sometimes you don't actually do it like you meant to. That's okay. There's still a decent stretch of November left for me to decide if I want to do this or if I'm doing it out of some weird superstitious compulsion that isn't actually healthy.

First day at my new job yesterday. It wasn't awesome. I took a Benadryl the night before which usually ensures that I sleep peacefully until 7:30. Instead I woke up at four, laid awake for a couple hours, then had a few really unpleasant dreams that should have had a violence and sex warning (although for once I looked nice with my hair in a ponytail), and woke up feeling drained and weird. I got to school and there was no login information for the library software system for me (it's entirely possible that this was my mistake, and in the future I'll know to email support before I actually go in). The library was set up for the book fair, and there was some confusion as to whether classes would actually be coming in, which was panic-inducing because, like I said, no login information, and then anti-climactic when no classes came in and I spent my first day just putting "Order Me" stickers on last copies for the book fair. I felt odd and out-of-place and sad.

On my drive home, I gave my head a shake. The few staff members I did meet (resource teachers whose offices are off the library) were lovely and welcoming. The school is a six-minute drive from my house. Because I have this job and not one at the public library, I work a few hours a week for a wage that will allow me to pay for some stuff like Bluesfest tickets and Christmas presents and vacations and tuition. And I have summers off.

I'm off today. I just made my home-from-college son an egg salad sandwich while we talked about Omega-3 acids, fish oils, subsidized housing, the flu shot, climate change, and Tupperware lids. Life is good, and I am settling the fuck down.

Desserts, Just and Less So

So I got the job. Either they liked me more than it seemed they did or I was the only applicant - which is fine, I'm not proud. To answer Steph's question (HI STEPH) it is to supplement my current gig, which is only one day a week at one school. This is on Mondays at a different school which is very close to my house; my ten-minute drive on Wednesdays is now my long commute. It's all kind of funny because years ago when I started my diploma, people were saying there was a projected library tech shortage for right now, and I would roll my eyes and say "yeah, okay, we'll see" and now postings are showing up fairly regularly on the job board. It's not a huge deal and it's not a large amount of money, but I do regularly feel very happy about the fact that I'm actually getting paid to do a job I went to school for because at one point in my life it seemed unlikely that that would ever happen. I suppose it's barely possible that having a classroom of seven-year-olds bellowing thank-you in French at the end of library time might get old some day, but I kind of doubt it.

I feel like I should write more, but I'm tired and my feet hurt and I really need to do laundry because none of my good bras are clean from the trip and my boobs were in full revolt by the end of work today. Oh, but this morning was the awards ceremony at Eve's high school. It was originally supposed to be last week so we were going to miss it, and then they re-scheduled, so we were really happy we could go. Since she was in grade nine last year, her group was first, starting at 9 a.m. We figured this would work out great, since Matt had to get to work to organize Bring Your Kid to Work Day because he's the most senior member in his group, and I would have lots of time to get Lucy to my parents and get to work after the ceremony. So we were going to be those parents, take a picture of our kid walking across the stage and then bolt for the doors. And her last name starts with an A.

Then as I'm sitting there waiting for the thing to start, my phone pings with the chimes of divine retribution and Eve texts: "Take a picture of M. getting her Honour Roll medal, because she didn't tell her mom and she's going to get murdered." Want to guess what her best friend's last name is? IT'S ZOUZOULAS.

I still made it to work on time. Barely. Served me right.

Day 13

I had another job interview this morning. It's another small position close by, but the resemblance to the last interview process sort of ended there. I sent in my application from Mexico from my husband's computer with a small degree of difficulty. The principal called me last night. Instead of just asking me to come in, she grilled me to a pretty high degree about stuff I thought was already in my cover letter and résumé. Then she said "are you applying to other positions?" and I thought oh! She's afraid I don't really want a one-day position or that I won't stay for long. I did my best to reassure her that I lack ambition and am very happy to work very little for the long term.

The last interview was a joyous happy frolic. I immediately loved the principal and v.p., we had a bunch of coincidental things in common, our purposes dovetailed nicely in that they were desperate for a library tech and I was one. The interview today was the usual drill - they give me a list of questions, fifteen minutes to jot down notes and then the principal and vice principal take turns reading me the questions and I answer. I don't love this process at the best of times - it's weirdly formal and stilted and I don't do well with that. Today was even worse because the questions were - how do I put this? - too grand. I'm fine talking about my education and training and how I deal with kids, parents and teachers, but when terms like 'vision' and 'initiative' and 'describe an example where you went to extraordinary measures to save the world' just make me want to roll my eyes and say "can we just cut the bullshit and be real?" Somebody was just talking on one of my Facebook groups about how she's excellent at her job but lacks polish. I feel the same - I'm not good at formal. I don't do well with situations where I feel like I have to be fake, and even though it seems like it shouldn't be a big deal to have to force it for a good reason, it is. It is a big deal. It makes me want to die. Oh well. It's good experience. I have a job already this time. It's fine.

Best-Laid Plans and All That

Wi-fi was spotty and Blogger refused to work any harder than I was in Mexico. I'm a tiny bit sad that my nine-year streak was wrecked. On the other hand, this trip was, despite an epically, comically, historically bad flight home (tiny plane with no leg room to begin with, man in front of me reclined his seat until my tray table was jammed into my boobs, family behind us with four kids, one of whom kicked my seat for four hours like it was his job, another of whom was the literal Screaming Baby, only three bathrooms in the back of the plane, which was blocked off with the service cart for most of the flight) such an incredible gift. I have apologized to my husband extensively for doing everything I could not to have to go (although not for mocking the Circle of Excellence thing, I still think that's hilarious).

Apologies

Let’s be honest. We all knew blogging from Mexico would be a stretch. I thought at least I’d post a photo a day or something. But I suck at typing on my phone and, well.... tequila. I’ll make it up to you when I get home. 

Here’s some pictures of a cool statue. 

 

Not at All Confusing

Korean Street Tacos. In Denver. En route to Mexico. 

Day 5

We're going to Mexico on a reward trip for my husband for being in a "Circle of Excellence" at work (will I mock him for something that nets me a free trip somewhere warm in November? Yes, yes I will. I'm not proud of it, but there it is). There's a website with numerous pictures of the beautiful resort, a detailed itinerary of all the fun things we get to do, and pictures of all the trip winners and their spouses.

So naturally I'm spending all my time obsessively poring over the pictures of the wives, who are all better-looking than me.

WHY AM I LIKE THIS?