Anything but me

i might like to talk about the snow globe, and how i became trapped inside it. is that a good story? no matter that it isn't true, this isn't what i asked. i said is it good. i might like to talk about j and her memories of childhood and how they eerily align with mine, leaving me to wonder if one of us is lying. again, i didn't ask if it was a true story, only if it was any good. i might rather talk about my career and the invitation to a pretend promotion. the fact that two of our children (so far) have taken their own lives this year doesn't count against me. but if i were to talk about my career it might appear that i don't really care about anything but me.

The last time

Paul says I should learn to use the new Blogger. But he also says I should just go ahead and starting writing books. One, or both of these things may require more energy of me than I currently possess, but it occurred to me that at least part of the problem is the fact my laptop is very (very)old, making access to newer systems limited. I have an iPad that is far newer, and lo and behold, it can access things my laptop cannot. - So with that said, henceforth I am only writing things for Paul, things about my dogs eating my chapstick for example. (It pleases me to imagine Australians on the other side of the globe gleaning some kind of wisdom from the story of my chapstick-eating pups.) - I am trying to write something real, though. It's more of an idea than a manuscript at this stage, but I will share my idea with you, Paul, because I think you might have ideas as to how it might work. Sometimes, I have noticed, you have more confidence in my brilliance than I do. -

a hole in my sidewalk

I am imagining I have only eight days left to say anything I should have said that might have been important. It isn't much time to finish a thought. This afternoon Donna came to visit and brought with her the wisdom and gravity that can only come from someone who has lost everything. This gives you perspective in a way that nothing else does; I tried to absorb it unselfconsciously.

thank you, goodbye.

1. I can't figure out how to use the new version of Blogger, which will, apparently, become the only version in September. I suppose I could complain to Google, or invest effort in learning how to use the new version. But I don't feel so inclined; I can't seem to care much about it, so this probably the end of the story unless something about that changes. It doesn't matter, particularly, because I have rather lost interest in the whole thing anyway. For now I am still able to access the old version, although it no longer allows me to insert paragraph breaks. Imagine me saying the following in one breath. 2. It's normal for me to be unenthusiastic about going back to work at the end of summer, but this year I find myself extraordinarily reluctant. It's a number of factors, of course, and many of them related to the 'Rona (the lack of adequate safety measures, the ridiculous amount of work foisted on counsellors to reschedule everything, the impending sense of dread as mental health of students, staff, and community members deteriorates...). But it's something more. It's the growing awareness that I like my 'Rona life better than I liked the old one. I like the lack of social obligation, I like the quiet. I am enjoying my garden and watching the birds. And making bread and painting old furniture and reading. All things I have always liked anyway, but the idea that I like these things enough to keep doing them longer than I thought I could. I used to think I needed my work to have something important to do in the world, and I don't think I feel this way anymore. I think I have done some important things, and I think I'd be perfectly happy to stop doing important things now. With all of this, I acknowledge the privilege involved - the fact that I have been employed the whole time, the fact that I have an unattached house with a large yard, the fact that I can afford to shoe shop when I'm bored, etc. and etc., and more. It is a possibility, to exit. I don't have to work. S is fine with that. I'm not sure it's fair to him, though. Or what the longterm impact of that would be upon our relationship. It's not like I am filling out the paperwork to resign, but I'm certainly imagining that in more detail than I ever have. Perhaps if I quit I will feel more inclined to invest time in learning how to use the new Blogger. Probably not. *

high touch surfaces

There is a commercial on television getting a lot of play lately that shows a young woman, 25ish, waking up abruptly.  She has overslept.  And for some unfathomable reason she absolutely MUST shave her legs before she can leave for work, even though she's late.  So she is bending herself into ridiculous yoga postures on her bedroom floor, diving into the splits, so she can dry-shave her legs as fast as possible before she flies out the door, triumphant and smooth.  I am trying to remember if I have ever in my life needed to shave my legs so badly, and I can't think clearly.   I would prefer to believe not, but maybe... not before work, though.  Only before going to the Warehouse where I hoped I might dance with someone close enough that he might surreptitiously slip a hand under my skirt and appreciate my efforts.  But before going to work?  Nope, don't think so.

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pigeons

We are directed to return to work on Thursday - and there is uproar.  (We have grown fat and comfortable inside our homes and it is difficult to venture back out now.)  There is no plausible hope that anything can prevent this from happening - though there are petitions and various groups online threatening to refuse "unsafe work"; nothing is likely to change at this point, now that public announcements have been made, and soldiers have begun marching.  I can follow along, or not.  (I will.)

S wants us to quit our jobs instead and move to the Atlantic coast where we can afford to retire now and live out our lives free from work.  He has not been directed back to his office. At this stage, he is permitted to work remotely indefinitely.  It is difficult to reconcile the vast array of responses from management in different environments, and it leaves people unsettled, fearful.  My role on staff has become one of reassuring people - in spite of the fact I feel a lack of confidence in leadership, myself.  I feel their anxiety enter my body when we talk, rapid pulse, fast breath.  I don't want them near me.  Their anxiety is just as infectious as the virus.

***

Doctor Bright.

S's friend/ J's guitar teacher died yesterday.  His cancer was aggressive and it looks like he only had four weeks or so from the  time it was diagnosed to the time he died.  Unreal.  I have wanted to talk about this, the shock, with various people.  But at this point in my life it is hard to think of a friend who isn't currently already worried about a loved one with cancer.  And I am trying not to make anyone more worried.

S is struggling with it; it makes him want to quit his job and go chase down joy, and I can't help but feel that along with him.  (It's always been my greatest fear to have my husband die suddenly.)  My mirror neurons are ridiculous.  I feel my eyes leaking every time one of them starts to get emotional.  I have my own feelings, of course; I knew him too, I liked him too.  But I wasn't as close as they were.  The root of my emotion is tangled around theirs, and around thinking about his heartbroken wife.



*

good things

1.  P is alive.  This would not have been likely without interventions of surgery and chemotherapy.  We have paused chemotherapy for the last three weeks because he has seemed quite ill - but currently he is very happy.  The illness seems to have been related to pancreatitis and not the actually chemotherapy meds.  I am hopeful we can continue and finish the course of medication, and that it will do what it was meant to do.  Without the lung surgery he would already, most likely, have died.  I am trying to notice his presence in my world as much as I can, and cherish it.


2.  The local union was forced to hold its representative's meeting online.  Because it was online, more people attended than usual, and not just the old guard.  Because of that shift, a member was able to put forward a motion to move our AGM online (next month), and vote in our elected officers in that format.  Because the voting members were not just the usual cat ladies who normally attend union meetings, the motion passed.  This is a huge change for the union, and it will be difficult for them to close this door in the future now that it has been opened.


3..  Yesterday SO, my former counselling mentee, texted me to ask if there was a job opening in my department.  I told her that unfortunately there was not, because I would love to work with her.  She said she must have misunderstood something her administrator told her.  Today she texted again to tell me her administrator had confirmed there actually IS an opening in my department.  M IS LEAVING.  Her administrator knew something that I did not.

(Sadly, this position cannot go to SO anyway, because it will be scooped up by an internal transfer - which is fine because I like him too.)

But the headline here is that M IS LEAVING.  Unbelievable.  She has been there the longest of any of us, lounging on her laurels and doing fuck all for more than a decade, and I thought it would take some kind of miracle to get rid of her.  I have dedicated the last five years to demonstrating my disgust for her as openly as I could get away with.  And over time, N has also begun to demonstrate his disdain.  She hasn't really got a friend anywhere and maybe this finally struck home.  Or maybe HR has moved her against her will.

I don't give a rat's ass why she's leaving.  She's leaving.  She's leaving, she's leaving.  Dealing with her stupidity and laziness has been the worst part of my job for the last five years, and I could not be more overjoyed to hear she's leaving us.  She has been exhausting, infuriating, soul-sucking... I can't think of anyone that will miss her.  Sad for her.  Happy for me.


4.  Covid education is working for me.  I like working from home.  I am not lonely, I am not frustrated with my family, I am not unemployed.  In fact, my job is easier this way and taking up less of my time.  Obviously, this can change, but for now it's really good.  I am spending my time going for long walks, baking bread, snuggling pups, and reading.  I like this life very much.  I don't actually know how I will force myself to return to the old way when the time comes.



*

changing the criteria

Ray has given away his two dogs, and bought himself an $80000 car.  This is how he continues to cope, I suppose, with the death of his wife, reorganizing his life in ways that reflect more of his wants and less of hers.  I wonder what S would do differently if I was gone, and how long it would take for me to disappear.

It's hard not to believe that we are intertwined enough by this point that some things wouldn't change, but maybe that is not true.

*

shouldn't have to

After taking two days away from work, I notice it is difficult to go back.  This year I have felt my enthusiasm waning for work, which is funny because so far it has been comparatively better.  With C on mat leave there is less conflict, and some of my most difficult and time consuming students have either moved away or gotten healthier.  (I hope this lasts.)  And yet, for whatever reason, I'm wanting to stay home and avoid everything.  Today I am meant to return after two days of lieu time, and I'm wishing I didn't have to.

Today will be wholly dedicated to administrative garbage (course selection for next year) which keeps kids who need counselling out of the office.  This enormous waste of resources leaves me frustrated every year at this time.  I wonder why the hell this is a counsellor's job rather than a clerk's job.  It isn't that I particularly mind the work - it's easy and mindless - but it prevents me from doing what I consider to be my actual job, counselling kids with mental health concerns.


*

P's doctor called me yesterday afternoon and told me the surgery has gone well.  There are important results to come from a prognostic point of view, so that part remains uncertain.  But from the perspective of the surgical department, they are done and have done their job well.  This is good news.  P is in ICU until tomorrow, and then should be discharged if everything goes according to plan.

*

Yesterday (with my second day off) I went to visit my chiropractor about my sore knee.  It has been improving lately, but I have no way to know if that's because of the things he is doing or if it's just because time has passed and I have adjusted the things I do at the gym to put less stress on it.  There are parts of these appointments I enjoy, mostly the stretching/pulling/twisting/adjusting parts. Although it is almost always uncomfortable, there is something very satisfying about having the chiropractor pull my leg in weird directions and coo to himself about how wonderful that is.  The part I don't like is the exercises he gives me, which are often so complex that I am halfway convinced when I try to do them at home I will end up injuring myself further.

*

what did you think about most?

P's surgery has been postponed until tomorrow.  It's incredible how knowing his diagnosis has changed the way I see him, the way I interpret his every movement.  Unfortunately I had already booked today and tomorrow off work to stay home and look after him, assuming there would be recovery time at this point.  Because K is the King of the Robots it is challenging to make changes once days are booked, and I opted to take these days off anyway rather than change them.  If P needs me later in the week I will call in sick.  (It's funny how sticking to the rules too closely ends up costing instead of saving - the inverse of the intention.)



*

plot points

P is scheduled for surgery tomorrow, our attempt at skirting the rules of nature; of course there is never any guarantee no matter how much money one is willing to lay down in order to keep their family intact.  But I can't think of a different way to respond as long as a professional is telling me that it is a reasonable option to try, because I love him.

*

Baldrey has scooped the story again the way he always does where it comes to contract negotiations.  I appreciate that he shares information with the media that the union does not share with its members, and it is clear that our leadership is fractured.  This has always been the way in this province, deep rifts in trust.  It seems worse than it did to me on the Winter Prairies, but it is also entirely possible that I just wasn't paying attention back then.  I was younger and more invested in things (like beer) that served to distract me from politics.

*

On Tuesday I had the most fascinating conversation with L, who is fourteen.  She was complaining to me about her counsellor, M, - the same counsellor I frequently dream of choking to death.  She said that M doesn't listen, or only listens to the things she wants to hear.  L's example was:

M:  How are you doing?
L:  Everything it's pretty fucked up.  Fighting at home.  Failing school.  Using molly.  But otherwise good, haha.
M:  Oh okay, that's great.  So you've got some good things going on for you; that's wonderful.  Okay, go back to class.  Have a great day!

I struggle to watch these kids longing for connection with an adult who will listen, and simultaneously struggle with the fact that every time I do M's job for her, it enables her to be a bigger and bigger parasite.  But this girl, I want her to have help, and so I started to cast her a line.  I told her there was a process she could follow that would help her get assigned to a different counsellor if she wanted to be.  Her response surprised me enormously (because what teenager doesn't want to take the easiest route to getting what they want?).  She said she would rather have a conversation with M and tell her that she is frustrated with the way M doesn't listen to her.

This won't go well, I predict.  M won't hear it.  But of course that isn't the point.  The point is that this anxious and vulnerable fourteen-year old girl has more balls than I do in addressing her concerns.  She wants to face the problem, and call M out on her bullshit.  In the past five years, I have very rarely been so brave to do that myself.   Every once in awhile I have made an (unsuccessful) attempt at getting M to see how her lack of action impacts the rest of the counselling department, but most of the time I just fume to myself and fantasize about choking her to death.  I am fascinated by the fact that L wants to try to tackle this issue and cannot wait to hear how it goes.


*

buying in bulk

On the evening of the 1st I made a decision not to go out with A; I did not tell him why.  I did not even know exactly why but I know why now.  I have decided to end this thing.  A has been circling too close and I will not allow it.  It poses too much of a risk to my marriage and now that I am seeing that clearly, I cannot be sure why I didn't see it that way before.  He is away right now, and I am gearing up to tell him before he comes back.  He is going to be hurt, and that is my fault.  But I need to protect what really matters.  I cannot lose sight of that.

*

Tomorrow I go back to work, and it is difficult to express how much I do not want that to happen.  Waiting for P's diagnosis makes me reflect on mortality unpleasantly, his and my own, and everyone else's too.  It all makes me want to quit working and focus on living as hard as I can.  I don't have a way to fund that, presently.  This is all just my brain ticking away.  It might explode.

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