FUCK
It's probably immature of me to only update this thing only when I'm feeling particularly upset or happy. Oh, well.
Supposedly bad things come in threes. I'm right now hoping that it's not "multiples of three," because this week has been so profoundly bad. If Friday's lesson was, "listen more and talk less," today's is "be careful what you wish for." I was stressed last week over my lack of writing, how I'm not quite sure what I should be doing right now, or what will realistically make me happy in the big-bad world (more specifically: maybe the idea of stability appeals to me more than I'd like to admit), all the while wondering what I'll do if I don't get into a phD program, and what I'll do in the coming year. I decided that I would prioritize writing above the extra hours that I could have used, but didn't necessarily need. I needed time to write.
Then the birth center bullshit happened, and while I was devastated over the weekend, I realized last night, walking down 1st ave, that the sheer elation I felt at knowing I would never, ever, have to work another Friday there overshadowed any sadness. Score one for me.\
"I'll spend my Fridays working at the school, and writing," I thought. "These are both things I enjoy."
Then today, the principal of the school where I work as a reading aide asked to speak with me in her office. I thought I would be sick. I thought of the recent time one of the students asked me why teachers could chew gum and they couldn't, and I jokingly quipped back, "Well, I guess it sucks to be you" (note: this is not unlike what other teachers have said. You get away with a lot in NYC public schools, partially because the student behavior is often so bad that being an asshole garners you a little more respect).
However, I wasn't fired because of anything I did. When I found this out, I hugged the principal. No, it's because the school went way over budget, to the order of $40,000, because there was no one to keep track of it. "Laid off" was the term used. I was the last person hired, so I'm the first fired. On a brighter note, if I do attempt to teach next year, I'm almost guaranteed at least a demo lesson.
I'm leaving on very good terms. The teachers all said they would miss me. The students don't know yet. The principal thinks highly of me, and asked me to please get my substitute teacher's license so she can call me when someone is out. And, in exchange for taking the news gracefully, she has offered to be a reference any time I need.
Except now I'm thrown back into panic-mode, having to figure myself out again. The shock of going from working 12-plus hour days to nothing is overwhelming. Here's hoping I get some kind of amazing book deal in the next week....
Supposedly bad things come in threes. I'm right now hoping that it's not "multiples of three," because this week has been so profoundly bad. If Friday's lesson was, "listen more and talk less," today's is "be careful what you wish for." I was stressed last week over my lack of writing, how I'm not quite sure what I should be doing right now, or what will realistically make me happy in the big-bad world (more specifically: maybe the idea of stability appeals to me more than I'd like to admit), all the while wondering what I'll do if I don't get into a phD program, and what I'll do in the coming year. I decided that I would prioritize writing above the extra hours that I could have used, but didn't necessarily need. I needed time to write.
Then the birth center bullshit happened, and while I was devastated over the weekend, I realized last night, walking down 1st ave, that the sheer elation I felt at knowing I would never, ever, have to work another Friday there overshadowed any sadness. Score one for me.\
"I'll spend my Fridays working at the school, and writing," I thought. "These are both things I enjoy."
Then today, the principal of the school where I work as a reading aide asked to speak with me in her office. I thought I would be sick. I thought of the recent time one of the students asked me why teachers could chew gum and they couldn't, and I jokingly quipped back, "Well, I guess it sucks to be you" (note: this is not unlike what other teachers have said. You get away with a lot in NYC public schools, partially because the student behavior is often so bad that being an asshole garners you a little more respect).
However, I wasn't fired because of anything I did. When I found this out, I hugged the principal. No, it's because the school went way over budget, to the order of $40,000, because there was no one to keep track of it. "Laid off" was the term used. I was the last person hired, so I'm the first fired. On a brighter note, if I do attempt to teach next year, I'm almost guaranteed at least a demo lesson.
I'm leaving on very good terms. The teachers all said they would miss me. The students don't know yet. The principal thinks highly of me, and asked me to please get my substitute teacher's license so she can call me when someone is out. And, in exchange for taking the news gracefully, she has offered to be a reference any time I need.
Except now I'm thrown back into panic-mode, having to figure myself out again. The shock of going from working 12-plus hour days to nothing is overwhelming. Here's hoping I get some kind of amazing book deal in the next week....