Showing posts with label crisis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crisis. Show all posts

Monday, January 26, 2009

The Plan

So the "Does Criss need a new job?" question has been answered with an emphatic, "Yes, I do believe so." It is now time to put A Plan into action.

I should be a pretty marketable individual. But all my job experience is in education, which apparently is synonymous with "Jack Squat" in the non-education world. Funny. In a very non-funny way. But I won't jump on that soapbox today.

The Plan is to start applying to jobs now. This means I'm not really giving this semester much of a chance, but that's okay with me. I'm still going to put effort into my job, I promise. I just know I won't be going back to it, because too many aspects of it irritate the living bejeezus out of me.

Since I am notorious for having absolutely NO self-discipline, and because the Internetz has been known to suck entire days from my life, I must formulate a detailed Plan to keep my butt in gear. And to keep my sanity from imploding.

The Schedule:
  • Leave school by 5:00 every day. Screw it if I still have other carp to do; at 5:00 I'm out.
  • Limit weekday Internetz time at home to 6:00-8:00. The first hour can be fun stuff, like email and blogs and Facebook (when we're on speaking terms), but the second hour has to be work: applying for jobs, updating resume, fixing dissertation, editing novels.
  • Get off the computer at 8:00 and join the World of the Living. (Namely Freddy.)
  • Be in bed by 10:30, so I can at least have enough sleep to face the soul-suckingness of the day job.
If anyone out there is looking for a passionate, motivated, hard-working bilingual (almost trilingual) employee, please let me know. I have references.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Mid-Life Crisis... at the tender age of 31

I have a lot of anger. And resentment. And anger.

I don't know exactly where it's all coming from, but it mostly gets taken out on my students.

A big chunk of the anger comes from them -- from the apathy running rampant through them. It kills me. I can't deal with it. I wish I could absorb it, at least a teeny, tiny part of it, so I could let so much of this slide off my back. Or over my head. Whichev.

The problem is I have a hard time understanding apathy. I care too much, that's usually been my problem. And when passion, enthusiasm, and energy meet with apathy... well, they get buried deep in the festering tar pit of apathy and eventually emerge, bubbling to the top, as boiling, bitter bile.

And anger and resentment.

There's anger and resentment about other things, too. Things that are over, but that doesn't mean that *poof* the resentment is gone.

Bush is gone. That's good. But he was bad. He did bad things. And stupid things. And, the worst part, is We The People let him do them.

Yes, we need to get over the past, because, as Mufasa says, "It doesn't mattah, it's in the past!" However, we can't just go, "Okeley-dokeley!" and walk away. We need to fix his screw-ups, and we need to remember what happened so we don't do it again. And we need to find a way to bring our schools back to passing, which at this point -- and no, this is not all Bush's and NCLB's fault, the system was ailing before they came along -- will require a complete overhaul. An education revolution.

Maybe tomorrow I'll wear my beret. And grow a beard. (Oh, wait -- I can't do that. What about growing my leg hair? Is that revolutionary enough? People probably won't want to depict that on t-shirts, though... and I can't say I blame them.)

...

This was supposed to be a cathartic blog post. It was supposed to bring me some sort of epiphany to help me get rid of the anger, so I could have a good day tomorrow. Instead, it turned into mumbled rambling... if I were not sick with The Sickness of Death, I might have been able to think more clearly and pull off this blog post.

I need a lead box. Where I can put the Apathy, so it will not affect me.

I need to let go of the anger and embrace the togetherness. The aisle-crossing. I need to be as big as the moment we lived today, the new era we are living. (I'm not feeling overly confident about my abilities.)

Or maybe I need some medication. Which is probably not a bad idea, but that takes time and money. Also, I deeply resent having to get on medication merely to deal with my job. There is something wrong with a profession that drives so many of its members to anti-depressants.

At least I know one thing: with a mid-life crisis at 31, I'm dying at 62. I don't have to stress out about having enough retirement funds.