I sit in a 12x14 room with two other white guys (go figure). There's two big tables with 10 chairs each, and a wall of windows above waist level, so lot's of NW exposure of sunlight (perfect for a studio).
The other guys have been there a few months, but not for swearing.
The Principal already advertised my position on the State Teacher website (I noticed it that day, which I thought was funny, because he would have done it at least the previous day).
I don't plan to return. I refuse to die there. Any hell I've raised enough to warrent payment has been attoned from doing 7 1/2 years there.
Either transfer to another school or go with a mental breakdown.
My psychiatrist is waiting in the wings, because we saw this coming miles away, and prepped for it accordingly.
Each is viable, both lending resolve to the idea of an atmosphere change as a necessity for mental health.
Still dealing with the 3 yr old stabbing issue on a daily basis.
Funny thing was, all the students that said, "Hi," to me, when I walked in, almost like they knew what was up.
Whatever, I feel liberated and showed it by knocking out a blasting superset yesterday; combination DB curl/press/fly's (40, but had to drop to 35's the last 3 sets just to finish), with lat pulldowns (150, down 135 the last 3 sets). 10x10 each.
Then I took my two girls (and the wife) to the Girl's Individual Swimming Championships, where it's every swimmer for herself.
They both finished the year with at least three ribbons each and a bunch of broken times. My 7 year old finished first in her heat twice and 2nd once, she took 5 seconds off her 25 yd backstroke time, awesome! My 12 year old help take first in the 200 freestyle relay with 3 other girls (great for team-building) and second overall in the Medley Relay (she swam backstroke). I was a timer for the entire meet. It was great to be on the deck to cheer on my kids and others on from our seasonal team.
The wife and I were surprisingly getting along, I'm perplexed, but rolled with it. "Never forgive a good day," said my best friend.
The point is, I am not the problem, atmosphere is, and we all know how certain atmosphere's affect us in negative ways. It's time for me to move on from my work assignment before the atmosphere of the place consumes whatever is left of who I used to be, end of story, but then what?
Concerning my time in "purgatory," with that room assignment, I have two distinct plans; one is to start the book idea I came up with and have been idling 1 1/2 yrs ago, and the other is to start transfering templates for the photo-realistic auto racing art I have been collecting photo's for. I could just see it, break out in April with a new book and an Art Show of my Photo-realistic paintings of Vintage Motor Racing. A dream, maybe, or do what, read "War and Peace?"
What the hell, I'm old, wishful thinking is free, the old me would have used this as the ultimate accomplishment of victim status, allowing me to justify crumbling at the seams as due course, but a real part of me drew it out, pushed the right buttons, to un-encumber me from this f-ing pink elephant (no offense to pink or elephants).
Only in an uncertain world can a "Class-A" Machiavellian shine in his true light. In due course, I shall transform from a pixel, to a light-powered force to be reckoned with.
