I didn’t wrote
for Memorial Day.
the pain won
I choked down the urge to cry
subsequent waves of nausea.
In the dead of the night
a breath of plumeria
on the cool breeze.
Beneath the twinkling stars
the warm water envelops us.
I see a depth of unspoken words
in your eyes.
Then your hand is on the back of my neck
your mouth tastes sweet
like the mai tais
flowing through our veins
greedily I take you in
Suddenly I can’t breath.
It was just a dream.
Now there’s 6 feet of dirt
All I have is this
cookie cutter headstone
a bracelet with your name
and your unspoken words
locked inside this dream.
I thought I could keep you. I told myself and my friends you’d never speak to me again once you found a girl. But honestly, I had hope. Somewhere inside I believed you might value my friendship. Maybe it was the sugar you got from the store and dropped off at my house at 8:00 pm one night just cuz I had a bad day and wanted coffee with sugar the next morning. I didn’t even ask, but you decided to go to the store and come to my house. Maybe it was when my car broke down and you came to pick me up. Maybe it was when you fixed my sewing machine. Or it could have been when you picked me up to bring me to the auto store to buy a car part even though my car runs. What about when you needed me? Called for advice. Called for someone to listen. Had a ripped seam in your shorts I could sew.
But then you kissed me. I shouldn’t have let anything happen. Should have gone home. Now I can’t shake the feeling that you’re not gonna talk to me anymore. It makes my stomach hurt. You’re gonna start avoiding me. I’m not sure why a man’s physical desires always relates to me being punished. Why do I have to lose friends because men don’t want to have self control?
I am clear on the fact that there is something wrong with me. I get that I am the only common denominator in every failed relationship. I love your friendship. I’m happy having a friend.
I had hope. I shouldn’t have. Now I feel likethe crazy lady. Can’t sleep. Worried you’ll abandon me.
Have you ever done something incredibly spontaneous? Like let’s say, bought a last minute plane ticket, boarded, and heades west to spend a weekend on the floor of a hotel room with friends you really don’t know all so well?
I haven’t either… Until now! What’s the point in being in your mid thirties with no children if you can’t spontaneously run away for a weekend?
There I some things I
want need EXPECT from a work place.
- Roach-free desk area. Killing giant (or tiny) roaches at 630 in the morning is a stressful way to start the day.
- Mouse-free recycling bin. In reality, it really has been a couple years since I’ve had a mouse in the recycling bin. Oh wait! We don’t get bins anymore – only boxes. But the mouse poop in my desk drawers – there’s no food in there, so I’m not sure why they like my desk – and the gnawing paper sound coming from the return air vent can be disconcerting even when you aren’t afraid of mice.
- Threat free work place. When I say words that fall within my job description, I shouldn’t feel threatened or abused. For example, when I say, “Please go to class,” I shouldn’t get verbally threatened, called many sorts of colorful curse words, or physically assaulted.
- Safe work place. It is not fair people are turning places like my work environment into a battle zone. It is worse that the media only propagates the worst stories! The media should not be allowed to honor and tribute school shooters by only sharing those stories. What about when someone who works in a school does their job? What if an officer stops a school shooter? Why don’t those stories make the national headlines? I’ll tell you why. The government and the media want me to feel unsafe. The government and the media are desperately trying to create a State of Fear around public schools. They are trying to push an alternate agenda.
- My clients (students) should not be used for political agendas. See above. The government should not allow children to be murdered so they can push their political agendas related to gun control. (While we’re on the topic, the government should absolutely NOT take away our second amendment rights.) What kind of sick, twisted logic has American leaders wildly sharing stories of school shooters as if they are heroes, leading the cause for gun control? It is absolutely repulsive.
- Either pay me fairly, or let me do my job. Without thinking too hard, off the top of my head, I have 4 additional committee type activities I am responsible for. I attend a minimum of 3 additional meetings per week. I am responsible for proving my growth and progress by logging in to a separate account, typing paragraph reports on myself, uploading example lesson plans, pictures of students, pictures of student work, etc. At some point in time, I am still required to write lesson plans, grade papers, and oh yeah – teach students. The problem is the last part – I have to teach. My 8 hour work day requires 5 hours and 25 minutes are spent with students. My 90 minute “plan time” is filled with team meetings 3 days per week Wednesday is half day for the students, so I only have a 35 minute plan with no meetings. When the students are gone, I’m required to attend meetings. (Please tell me when I am supposed to write those lesson plans and grade those papers.) All those committee responsibilities, proving myself (because my lesson plans and observations done by administrators isn’t enough), mentoring new teachers, planning and facilitating professional development, etc. are EXTRA beyond my actual job to teach. The worst part – how am I supposed to do those while I’m teaching? I can’t preform those responsibilities when I actually teach. It’s one or the other. I may not get paid a terrible awful salary, however, I do make $19,700 less than the average person with my level of education – and as a slap in the face, I can’t actually fulfill the majority of my responsibilities during the work day because 5 hours and 25 minutes of my 8 hour day is spent with students, while I get 25 free minutes per day to eat, and my “plan time” is spent for me in the currency of meetings. So your options should either be 1. Pay me the extra $19,700 per year that I’m worth OR 2. Scrape all the extra B.S. off my plate and allow me to just do my job; lesson plan, teach, grade, and take attendance.
- Support my efforts. If a student causes a disruption by: throwing things, talking during a test, verbally or physically assaulting me or other students, playing loud music (or youtube videos) while I’m teaching, is not assigned to my class but shows up anyways and talks to students who are in my class, etc. and I write that student up and send him/her out, don’t – PLEASE DO NOT – send that student right back to class. You have just undermined my authority and taught all of the students in my classroom that it doesn’t matter what I say, there are no negative consequences for absurdly disruptive or unsafe behaviors. On that note, I don’t want to see the student tomorrow either. Those behaviors are not acceptable. Administrators should create and enforce a discipline policy that actually addresses these negative behaviors students have.
PS – Yes. I wasted time at work writing this. But my students were either absent, watching a video, or using their cell phones while they were supposed to be taking notes. Instead of taking on one of 1,967 responsibilities indirectly related to my job, I needed to find a way to vent my current frustrations because I’m feeling angry, abused, and unheard. I’m very upset about a co-worker being hurt 2 weeks ago by a student and the way that situation has been handled. It’s hard to focus when everything seems to be pushing you down, under the surface, trying to force you to drown.
Bloodwork came bsck. Vitamin D deficient. Iron deficient. They didn’t check my kidney function or my ANAs. I figure my rheumatologist can give me that news. Insurance doesn’t want to cover my Rx. We are the only country with insanely risimg health care costs. On top of that, the insurance we pay for doesn’t cover it. If it does cover it, I have to jump through 10 hoops, walk a tightrope, and cartwheel tbrough a spinning hoop of fire for a mile. My doctor asked for a prescription level of a vitamin. Why? Because my levels are beyond low again. It’s not like she is trying to give me opiod pain killers for a jammed thumb! My levels dropping are a sign of coming out of remission. My medical care bills will sky rocket if lupus comes back and then they’ll really be up shit creek! If I can stop it now and get healthy, then I can stay in remission. I pay health insurance premiums for a reason. Help me get a damn vitamin!
Had to talk to a teacher leaderabout a student today. Conversation led to a hotline call. There’s a specific term for the emotional toll a teacher, counselor, caretaker, etc. pays in this kind of situation. It escapes me now.
Today’s experience cut into my self confidence. I’ve applied for a bigge job as a leader. I truly felt ready. But after today’s emotional toll, I’m missing my gung-ho, battle ready confidence.
Maybe it’s just coincidence. There are bound to be days of doubt amd days of second-guessing. Maybe today is just the first.
Possibly the self-doubt is a reflection of the argument/miscommunication I had with my mom. If I can’t communicate with my own mom, then do I really know how to communicate as a leader?
I applied for a second, less leader-like job. Found out on our apllication system I can’t upload a job-specific cover letter for each position I apply for. If I can’t target a position I’m interested in, how do I sell myself with confidence? Thus is the world where technology should help us, but in some instances it is also the caise of our biggest failures. (Highest depression rate in teens ever. Lowest incidence of teens hanging out with freinds outisde of school. Technology being called “social” and “smart.” coincidence? Definitely not, but this is a rabit hole for another place.)
If I have fears and doubts, how do I convince others I am the person for the job?
I found him. My brain finally kicked into gear. I knew there was a resource all along, but I was so caught up in the emotion of it. I know for sure. I said I’d let it go once I knew.
Breathe in the memory… Deep and slow.
Breathe out the pain and regret.
Let it go. The shreds of hope are no more real than the faulty dreams attached to this image by the ingenuous photographer.
Breathe in. Breathe out.