I was suffering through a pretty extended period of terminal insomnia three years ago. I thought it was from grief, but turned out the Effexor I started taking right after Boonie died was the culprit. When I decided to go off it a little while later, the wake-ups stopped. Now the same thing is happening, but I’m not on meds so I don’t know what the hell. Sometimes it shows up when I start a new job or move to a new city or something, but there’s no major circumstantial upheaval right now. So I don’t know. But it sucks.
Two years ago, I was soliciting career suggestions. Still am! (If you guys had actually come through with my request for a bajillion dollars, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.)
Thing is, I love teaching: I love my content area; I really like my school and the people I work with; I dig the vacation schedule; my administration is supportive; and the kids, the kids are hilarious. But the parts I hate about my job, I hate so bad, namely (1) frequent, long, useless, pointless meetings, (2) 7:20am start time, and (3) stupid, stupid hoops to jump through, passed down from people who have never been in the classroom or were there so long ago they haven’t the foggiest recollection what it’s like.
And those things, minus maybe #2, would be true for any teaching job. So maybe teaching’s not it for me?
But what is?
(Send one bajillion dollars now.)
A year ago, I wrote one of my most commented-on posts. You think it’s about dating? Guess again.
Happy Retrobruxist Friday, y’all.