You know how I've been going on and on and onandonandon about how the Universe is trying to tell me something?
Maybe its telling me that I'm not SUPPOSED to be a teacher in a public school.
Maybe you are supposed to follow your talents and interests and do what you're good at.
I'm good at choreographing and dance and exercise. Maybe that's where I need to focus.
Because I do hate plenty of things about public ed.
And (sorry Katye and Sarah! Truly sorry!!) I am jealously pissed that my friends are gonna get to homeschool/hoity toity private school their kids when I'd like to do one of those things.
Other things I'm drawn to is working with the disadvantaged.
Writing, though it is something I love, is not the place for me.
I have to believe that there's a place for me!!! Otherwise I start thinking that I'm worthless. I am not destined to be a substitute teacher or a server!! NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THOSE THINGS!!! They are HARD jobs. I've done them. But doing them long term would KILL MY SOUL! And I can't believe that a friend of mine suggested that I serve again! GGGGRRRRRRRR! That hurt.
Anyway, I am having a major, major existential crisis. I am going on meds, Friday.
Today: Clean like banshee, because anal landlord is showing apartment at 4:00 p.m. to prospective new renters. Know that even though I am moving, he will not like the looks of the place, what with the hand and footprints on the wall, spots in the carpet, two broken closet doors, massively messy laundry room, etc. Stress internally about what he will say when he sees the place, despite day long effort of cleaning. Carpet coming at little yellow house today. Later, drive to Columbus. Number of kids: Five.
Tomorrow: Friend is coming to help! Bless her! Run errands like madwoman before kids finally wear her down. Number of kids: Six.
Friday: Clean/pack. Doctor appointment. Perhaps library trip? Perhaps not, because that would be yet another trip to Columbus. Number of kids: Only three this time.
Saturday: Dad coming to help! Bless him! Work his (and my!) fool ass off!
Sunday: Work until we drop dead from exhaustion.
I don't feel at all useful.
I don't have any passion for anything.
I could just erase and that would be fine. Sure, my kids would miss me, but life goes on.
Insignificant.
all i can do today is sob. i have lain on the couch. today is my last day, or next to last, with the russell kids, and i can't enjoy it. i'm debilitated. i can't even do much work around here. i feel like...nothing.
Going with the flow is not how I roll.
Losing people is my greatest fear. It has come to pass in the space of a year.
Work hard, do your best, you will have no success.