Things Changing

Woo look at me blogging while I cook.

 

Well, it’s home made curry, it’s going to take a while. So, have chrome book propped up on the drier- while drier is on. Adds quite the challenge to typing. With NaNo almost over, I am back to the blog. Have had time to think about what I blog. Writing prompts are fun, but they should not be the only thing I do.

 

Thus, you are going to get some me. Not the work me, or the day to day me, but the actual inner me.

 

Inner me is cynical. Inner me swears, a lot. Inner me also cares deeply and can get angry.

 

This week work has dominated my thoughts. Well, I say dominated…. It’s eaten them whole and shat them out in a mental sludge that has kept me awake into the wee small hours. This has probably been the worst week of work in the last five years.

In case you don’t know, I work in education. Some say I am good at it. Devoted even. Me, I don’t have the arrogance to make a bold statement like that. I like being paid, would not do it for free. Yet the epic days I have working with teenagers balances out the bad. There are bad days, sometimes I come home mentally fragmented and needing to be patched up. Other Half has got my six when this happens.

Perhaps I get so tired as it’s an act when I stand in front of a class. IRL I am never that confident and people scare the shit out of me. Part of me still has a respect for authority. I want to believe that those in charge get put there by merit. Stepping into middle management this year has wiped that from my soul. Those in charge take care of themselves and pass blame when things go wrong.

Which is what happened to me this week. It dawned on me slowly, others saw it first. Told me I should be angry, I was not… until I checked my records. Never delete an email children. Looking back over dates and contacts it became clear. I had been fucking shafted and was left to deal with the fallout. My professional integrity has been put on the line because someone is too wrapped up in other things, or too damn lazy to do their job properly.

I don’t like getting angry. No, really, it frightens me. I get flashbacks of angry yelling from growing up and some of the rest of what I saw back then.

Nope, not going into any details. Naming names when people are not in public life is a dick move. I am not a dick. I was, however, tired, angry and upset with little outlet. I put my head down and slogged on. One thing I take pride in- I am a stubborn cow. It did not break me. Oh, I wanted to cry in a corner and gnash teeth, but that would not have done any good. Many hours of extra, panicked work later and I met the deadline. It’s a rushed, poor job, that will reflect badly on me, yet it is done.

So, on Friday I filled out an application form for a new job. I have been playing with this idea for months. Making half-assed comments that I don’t have to be trapped in my current job. Yet it took this week to galvanise me into actual action.

It was rather cathartic on one level, and utterly terrifying on another. I’ve been working in the same place ten years, TEN YEARS. A DECADE! Some of my colleagues have been in the same place their entire career. Rare in this day and age. I was half submitting to the idea that I would be among them. Despite the allure of better salaries and working conditions abroad, my Other Half really does not want to leave Scotland.

I am not a dick and I love him so don’t push the issue. Marriage is about compromise- as I have learnt from fifteen years of it. Back to work- two jobs on my radar, the other side of the country.

Yes, I am scared. I flit between OMG WHAT AM I DOING??? To- FUCKING LET ME LEAVE! AM SICK OF THE FUCKWITS!

 

There will be fuckwits wherever I go, but if I don’t try and leave, how will I know?

 

Oh, trite poetry? I’m such a twat.

 

Curry is almost ready. I am off to cook the rice. Korma, if you must know. Then onwards to marking in front of the TV. Living the dream. It pays the bills-

Who knows this might be the best decision in recent years. Or the worst. Or it might crumble my ego to dust and bend the steel in my spine as I am unwanted elsewhere.

 

That’s life. Time will tell.

 

Signing off for now.
Goodbye friends and strangers.

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Writing prompt- February 15th

Norman Mailer claimed that- “Insomnia is the minds revenge for all the thoughts we forgot to have in the day.” What do you think about when you can’t sleep?

Money… not notes or pound coins but numbers on a screen, representing what I owe and what I need to pay.

Has the direct debit for my phone come off yet? Am I paying off enough on my computer? Has the mortgage been paid yet? I went out for a meal a few weeks ago… that money could have paid extra off on the credit card.

What of the repairs? £10,000 towards fixing the roof. The zeros parade across my mind. Will I ever pay that off? Oh I know I earn enough to make ends meet but with a pay cut looming in the summer my heart sinks. No holiday again this year.

Then children. Are they happy? They seem so… am I too strict with them? I got angry at the 7yo for jumping on his bed… should I have talked to him instead of yelling? He’s already broken a bed he’s just so big… he does not realise he’s not five anymore.

3yo is smarter than I am. Frighteningly so. People will think we are hothousing him. Nothing could be further from the truth. He just picks it up, loves numbers, is already trying to read. Fuck people. Hate most people anyway. Am I stimulating him enough though? Is he bored?

Are they happy? Am I a bad mother?

Husband. Ever shifted to third on the list after the money and the children. Guilt for that… lots of it. Squirming in my chest. It used to be just us. He was always my first consideration. Can’t remember when that changed. Is he healthy? I worry about him through the day and it all piles up and is concentrated as I hear him breathing beside me. His eyes were bad today. Must make sure to lie still so he sleeps properly. His back, he will wake in pain. Must make sure I get him a coffee in the morning to take his meds with.

Is he happy? Is he still happy to be with me? Does he regret moving here? Our way of life? What can I do to make sure he is okay?

Work harder, smile more. 7yo asked if we were poor a few days ago. A 7yo should not ask things like that. Need to devote self to career, even though it eats my time and presses thick black worry down on my mind.

Sometimes I love it, best job. Sometimes I hate it. Blame self for things I can’t control. Make mistakes because my head does not work like others do. Should I get a new job? Would I feel any better? How much money would it cost to move? Can we afford that?

I feel so trapped sometimes… just want my mind to shut down. Computer helps. I don’t have to think of anything else when writing or destroying pixels on a screen. Even in that I don’t have the hand to eye coordination to perform well. Dyslexia makes words come out backwards, clumsy fingers mash keys…

No… I need to sleep

Mind continues to plan for the worst case and dreams are haunted with hungry children and the roof of my flat collapsing.