It looks like my dresser threw up in our bedroom (keep in mind that my dresser isn’t even *in* our bedroom). There is a visible layer of dirt and dog hair covering every hard surface in the house and I don’t even want to think what is covering every soft surface. I need to call the carpenter back to actually *do* the repair work on our upstairs porch. I need to go to the UPS store to send my Vans back to Zappos.com. Both dogs need to go to the vet. The bathrooms are crazy dirty.
If you want to help me do all of these things, please contact me. I will pay you in love, respect, and all of the blog shout-outs you want.
At my last job I had to make lots of decisions about things like how to approach a parent about a child’s suspected learning disability, or the best way to differentiate instruction for a classroom with children ranging in abilities from identified gifted to borderline MiMD (that’s mildly mentally-delayed for you laypersons). Or about really important things like who gets to go get a drink of water when. Those of you who teach know that is one of the most important calls you will ever make.
The new job is definitely different. The only water-drinking schedule I have to worry about it my own (p.s. if you drink a lot of water, you have to go the bathroom a lot, so much that it seems almost disproportionate). I spent over 30 minutes today fuming over the fact that sometimes there just isn’t a better word for better but you can’t use better 34,621 times in a sentence but you don’t want to use the wrong word because to use the wrong word is a cop out and copping out is not tolerated, particularly by me and definitely not by my boss.
As the end of the school year approached, I found it very hard to get up the motivation to come in on time and to not bolt right when the kids left. That is totally not a dig at my school- I love my school with all of my heart. It just gets like that. Now my hours are from 8 to 5 (I actually picked the earlier option-awhaaaaa?) and I have not left at 5 yet this week. Staying here a little bit longer just doesn’t have the soul-sucking effect that putting in extra time at school started to have. I don’t sit in the car in the morning, banging my head against the steering wheel and pleading with the good Lord above to spare me from any verbal assaults that day or for him to orchestrate a massive blizzard in the middle of May so I could just go home and go back to bed. I’ve been excited to come to this job everyday-nervous beyond belief at times, but excited.
I turned in my first copy the other day and it was totally not what it needed to be. Thankfully my boss told me that. I’m not one who appreciates anything wishy-washy, especially when it comes to the quality of my work. I don’t want to think I’m awesome while everyone else knows I suck, talks about while I’m not there, and has to pick up the slack when I’m not looking. The only thing worse than being dead weight is not knowing you’re dead weight. I have a lot to learn and I’m willing to screw up a ton at the beginning if it means that I’ll become good at my job-better to crash from a low altitude, I say. I just hope my ego doesn’t get in the way. Although, it takes a lot to hurt my feelings considering some of the things that former students and parents have said to me. My skin is pretty thick and I appreciate honesty. I don’t BS and they don’t seem to do that here.
Plus, today there were some festivities involving a chicken suit AND chocolate cake. I mean, seriously, how many of you can say that you were at the office today and saw a chicken discussing specific padding on a page’s html? Uh, that would be zero of you unless you work with me.
I’m glad the first week is over and I’m excited for Monday-even for the whole crashing and burning part because apparently I’m a masochist (not *that* kind, though). And, there’s word that there are some leg warmers in our future. CAN YOU HANDLE IT?
I got news from my old school today that all my kids passed their SOL tests. It was pretty exciting and a great way to end my time there. Now, hopefully this new job will go just as well…
Though it’s hard to see, this picture shows our newest bedtime ritual. The rear end closest to you belongs to Zapp. The one farther back belongs to Shooter. Zapp’s new most favorite thing is to burrow into any blanket she can find and then prance around with said blanket on her head. This prancing is usually done on the bed and in the general direction of Shooter (who is also on the bed and it has to be his “general” direction because she can’t see where she is going, what with the blanket on her head). Shooter then responds by pummeling her, typically onto my lap or onto my MacBook which is typically on my lap. Then the mystical dance starts all over again, repeating until one of us explodes into a storm of grumbling fury, sends the dogs to their crates, and swears that we will never ever get another dog ever.
I started my new job today. Boy howdy, it is different from teaching. I mean, obviously it would be different but it was a total shock to my system. I didn’t get home until 6 but I actually had enough energy to get some things done around the house AND to have a conversation with Ross. I’m getting ready to go to the gym in a few minutes, too. And I’ll have you know that I made several trips to the bathroom without having to worry about what was going on in my absence. I thought about sending an email to my former teaching colleagues letting them know when I had finished my first lunch hour (as opposed to lunch 15 minutes), but I thought that would be unkind.
Everyone is really nice and they all seem to enjoy being at work. I didn’t hear anyone complain about one thing all day which is very encouraging.
This job definitely requires me to use a different part of my brain, but I’m excited about the challenge. I’m out of my comfort zone and I like it. Honestly, I’m thrilled about going to work tomorrow.
Friday: Puttered around the house. Had dinner at home. Watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Went to Ipanema. Home and to bed late.
Saturday: Lunch with the in-laws. More puttering around the house. Did some shopping. Dinner party for Rachel’s birthday. Some wine was had. Home and to bed late AGAIN.
Sunday: Tried to sleep in. Couldn’t stay asleep. Had lunch with Mark, Jenni, and Remus. Home to relax. Didn’t go to church. Had a late dinner with Phanie. Home to have a major freak out about starting new job tomorrow. Don’t know what to expect. I *do* expect very little sleep.
After getting some ice cream, Ross and I came home to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I always forget how much I love that movie. I was fortunate that my mom was adamant that we watch older movies as we grew up. We happened upon this one in my late teens and I loved it right away. I ended up reading the book in college and, as per usual, I found it to be completely different from the film. But, I love the movie all the same and you should definitely see it if you get a chance.
Here’s a snippet, one of the first scenes in the movie:
Best Diarist “I feel like I know Valerie like a best friend. I think if I saw her in Ukrop’s, I’d be compelled to ask how Ross’s birthday was. Does she have a clue who I am? No.”
