This is a really existential job.
Every day when I come in, I ask, "Who am I?"
I've been working as a substitute teacher at the local public charter school (where my Dear Husband KK is the director of finance) for more than five years now. When I am asked to substitute, I'm not told until I arrive what class I will be teaching. For whom will I be substituting?
Who am I?
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Last night I dreamt...
I am coming back to this several weeks after I the night when I dreamt this:
I dreamt that I was at a bakery and someone (my mom?) had said that I should apply for a job there, because I needed a job.
But this bakery was very far from my home. Over an hour.
But I was there, right? I was there because I had given someone a ride. To a funeral, I think.
So I decided to apply for the job. I could always decline, if offered, right?
So I came in and I announced to one of the teen-aged staff, I am here to interview for the job.
And the teenager acted deaf. She didn't want me to get the job.
So when I saw the manager-looking person go by, I announced, very loudly, I AM HERE TO INTERVIEW FOR THE JOB.
(this is where I am coming back to this so I am not sure of these details) I think I might not have been married?
The manager wanted me to work one day a week ten hours.
There were dead bodies with braille IDs on them.
But this bakery was very far from my home. Over an hour.
But I was there, right? I was there because I had given someone a ride. To a funeral, I think.
So I decided to apply for the job. I could always decline, if offered, right?
So I came in and I announced to one of the teen-aged staff, I am here to interview for the job.
And the teenager acted deaf. She didn't want me to get the job.
So when I saw the manager-looking person go by, I announced, very loudly, I AM HERE TO INTERVIEW FOR THE JOB.
(this is where I am coming back to this so I am not sure of these details) I think I might not have been married?
The manager wanted me to work one day a week ten hours.
There were dead bodies with braille IDs on them.
101 tiny actions
Little things. Tiny actions. They may not seem like much, but added up in the hundreds or thousands of repetitions, the hundreds of activities, these actions accumulate to mean something.
I’m not even going back to our grandparents or great-grandparents’ days when everyone had to plow, plant, walk or hitch up horses.
I haven't made it to 101 yet, but here are my first 21.
1. Cooking: mashing potatoes
2. Cooking: rotary beaters OR spoon mixing
3. Cooking: making dinner
4. Cooking: making bread
5. Cooking: chopping vegetables
6. Home: beating rugs
7. Home: pushing a lawn mower
8. Home: shoveling snow
9. Home: Hanging laundry
10. Home: Washing dishes
11. Daily Life: Changing the station on the TV
12. Daily Life: Answering the phone
13. Daily Life: Walking to the mailbox
14. Daily Life: opening the garage door
15. Daily Life: washing the car
16. Daily life: changing a tire
17. Daily Life: research in real books
18. Cooking: opening cans
19. Daily life: typing or writing (and rewriting) vs. word processing
20. Daily life: Walking from one office to another
21. Daily life: winding your watch or clock
Time is gobbled up
I have about two weeks to:
* clean my house from top to bottom
* shop and prep for Thanksgiving
* complete the fantasy novel I am writing
Panic much?
My house is in disarray in part because I have been directing a play during all of October. The rehearsals (and the show itself) took place an hour or more from my home - depending on traffic. Then I was working most days with my Adventures in Substitute Teaching.
Luckily, just got a message from my sister that my nephews are looking to earn some money. Looks like I have a cleaning crew- now I need to schedule them!
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