Sunday, February 22, 2009

end of page

Sometimes when I am writing in my notebook and can't think of anything to say, can't find one more sentence to take me to the end of the page, I just write "end of page end of page end of page" until I'm there.

There are a few things I'd like to get to the end of: folders of papers that need to be graded, including sophomore poetry portfolios and senior Gatsby quizzes; the mess I started in the kitchen (this morning I decided to cook four freezer meals but didn't get out of the apartment to grocery shop until noon); job search; fixing the time stamp on this blog so you don't think I'm posting at four in the morning or talking about bed at four in the afternoon; a virtual rummage sale for the new import teachers (we're selling kitchenware, lamps, a fan, stuff we don't want to ship); oh, and take down the Christmas ornaments that are hanging above the kitchen counter. Even Claire isn't amused by their sparkle anymore.

Like how I sandwiched JOB SEARCH in there?

There is so little, so little to report on this front but it consumes much of our thoughts. Justin and I tell each other scenarios so that we feel calm. If/then statements. We have our plan and our backup plan and our waybackup plan. So there isn't much to do aside from bombard schools with emails and attached resumes and follow up emails and more attachments of scanned reference letters and transcripts and whatever other goodies any school recruiter might desire. Justin, who is interested in moving to the Middle East, keeps leaving lists of schools I should look into: Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, United Arab Emirates. Meanwhile, I keep dreaming of staying in South America: Peru or Chile. Which means we'll probably actually land jobs in Asia.

This past year I've tried to be, like, very chill about things. (I never say stuff like that. Okay. Not often). I can be quite high strung - this isn't a revelation to most - but I've been learning to take deep (deeeeep) breaths and steps back. Justin and I tell each other our plans but we also remind each other of times when we felt this same way: unsure, doubtful, hopeful, wanting resolution. Our second year of teaching, we wanted to land jobs near each other. We prayed for that. We ended up with classrooms across the hall from each other - but didn't get that answer until the last week of July before the new school year started. I get a sense that that might be what happens this time: we'll find out where we go in June or even July. Eek.

End of page end of page end of page. When will we get there?


Natalie D said...

sounds like you are consciously working on being more laid back - which is good!

Anonymous said...

You should see Davey learning to take deep breaths! Hugs to you. Mom