Opening up a vein

Just when I started thinking that life could not possibly suck anymore, it is. I returned to work on Monday and discovered that one of the other new teachers had not returned. Instead she had been replaced. Why? Something about classroom management.

One of the veteran teachers insisted that I meet with her after school on Monday. It seems that the perception is that I have similar problems. She is trying to ensure that I still have a job next year. And here it was, I thought that things were getting better. Just shows what happens when I try to think. I felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under my feet. So I spent nearly two hours with her mapping out the changes that I would make starting tomorrow.

Oh, and to top it all off, there was discussion about my wardrobe not being professional enough. I explained that when the temperature dropped, I suddenly had a lot fewer wardrobe options. I told her that I could have more options if I could actually afford to dryclean some stuff. She is going to show me the bulk place that she uses. I mean it's not like I purposefully go to school thinking, "Hmmm. I think I should have a little gap between the waistband of my pants and my shirt." I am sorry that I am thin and long-waisted. First time I've ever been smacked down on a job for my wardrobe. Makes me want to start to reconsider my neighbor's idea for a business. The B&B&B. That would be bed and breakfast and bordello. I tried to tell her the idea would only be legal in certain parts of Nevada.

So right now I feel like I've been kicked while I was already down. I'm not sure how I'm going to crawl out of this hole. I did spend most of Monday night crying. Because that's what I do when I'm feeling exceptionally hormonal and life keeps throwing out more crap. Reminds me of something that my friends in high school and I used to say. "Life's a shit sandwich and each day you have to take a bite. The only difference is how big a bite you have to take." I feel like I've eaten half the sandwich in one sitting. And then I called Queenie because she saw me walking to my car after the meeting and knew that something was amiss. Well, actually she knew that something was amiss when I kept shooing the kids away for opera practice. (Remind me to tell you about that one day.) She assured me that I am a great teacher. That doesn't mean that I still won't be canned at the end of the year though.

So where do I stand? No friends that I count on except Queenie, no love interest, and possibly no job come June. Do I feel calm, relaxed, and all that other stuff? Hell no. I am at my neurotic best, waiting for someone to pull me in from that tree limb.

With that said, I think it may be in my best interest to not go out this week. Because I'm pretty sure they don't let you blog from the psych ward. And now I'm going to resume my pre-school crying. Because the asshats that control stuff have also decided that today is tree trimming day. And not in the festive way. Which means that all cars must be moved by 7 a.m. This would be the perfect time for one of those asshole men I have met over the last few months to call, just to say how wonderful I am. In the meantime, I think I'm going to email the Belgian. He did just send me wonderful vacation pix from Tunisia. There's one of him in a bathing suit. If you ask nicely, perhaps I'll send it along.