Friday, February 16, 2007

in love with love and lousy poetry

I have travelled home for the weekend (although I'm not really sure why) and am now quite content to be sitting here, computering it up and listening to the Weakerthans rock my twentysomething world on Marigold. And now it's KT Tunstall, which is a pretty good time as well: My heart knows me better than I know myself so I'm gonna let it do all the talking.

I've been in the new place for two weeks now and I am finally starting to feel like everything might be okay. I didn't write very much about it at the time, but my experiences at my first job very nearly soured me on teaching as a career. They were three of the worst weeks of my life, to the point where I made myself physically ill as my body tried to cope with the stress. No job is worth that. In the end, losing was okay, because I would have burnt myself out before too long.

The new job is different. Maybe it's simply that I spent time at this school last year and that makes me comfortable. Maybe it's that I have friends on the staff. Maybe it's that I am starting to be more confident in my abilities as an educator (we can thank my second job for that!). And certainly the fact that I have a very nice, very well behaved group of students this year doesn't hurt. But I don't feel hopeless anymore, and I don't feel like what I'm doing is useless. I like that, and I hope it stays this way. *knocks wood*

It's been an interesting few weeks. I am saddened by grocery shopping for myself, because produce sucks in the winter (and especially much this year), and Facebook is not only sucking up lots of time but also reconnecting me to a variety of friends I haven't talked to in years, both from high school and even back before we moved up here. I have not had a chance to go skiing yet, but that is day will come.

I did have a lovely Valentine's Day, though...I assumed we weren't doing anything until I came home for the weekend, and then a stranger pulled over to offer me a ride home after school. He drove the hour to come find me, bringing me flowers, chocolate, a bottle of my favourite wine, and his companionship. Pretty special, that one--the irony, of course, is that I had just been telling my coworkers that he wasn't likely to do anything too romantic. I am a jerkwad, apparently.

It's hard to believe that I have had this blog for so many years now, and have never managed anything more than a few sporadic posts a month. Let's change that, shall we?

...and I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play...

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