Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Breaking Point
6:37 pm | 
Posted by
Cat |
Have you ever noticed how 'things' never come at you one at a time? They always seem to have a habit of coming en-masse.
Work has become something that brings a sick feeling to my stomach each morning. And it isn't the kids. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be clinically insane by now. My responsibilities have more than quadrupled and my stress levels also. My week now consists of a meeting each morning and each afternoon, and my 'lunch breaks' are dedicated to playground duty, art or dance groups. My 2 hours of release time is dedicated to replenishing art supplies that other teachers have lost or (sadly) stolen. I'm accountable to the principal for the fact that in six months we have lost 150 paintbrush, $240 worth of ink, $60 worth of specialty paint, 120L of primary paint as well as a whole list of miscellaneous items.
I've been getting to school at 6:15 just to get my work prepared for the day. Then when I do plan, I find that all hell breaks loose and my plans get tossed in the bin. Today for example, I began a literacy lesson to see two builders waltz into the classroom, ask me to move my class and procede to barricade off half the room so that they could pull down a removable wall, bolt it back together and replace it.
And if one more 2-day-a-week part-time teachers with no responsibilities tells me I'm really quite lucky because no-one is really busy unless they have a family....they'll get a slapping!
Bottom line is I'm stressed.
No more news of my mum. What could've been basic corrective surgery didn't go to plan, and well...we just have to hang tight.
So the Post Script is I'm emotional.
Driving home today I was fighting back tears and trying not to think about how the deputy principal decided today that I would be great at co-ordinating an art-exhibition day at school. Or about the presentation I have to do tomorrow. Or the meeting that was called for tomorrow morning at the one space I have in my day to pee.
Then a friend called and 'challenged' me. I know it's good, but my goodness I felt horrible afterwards. I wanted to crawl under my bed and cry. Well, I didn't crawl under my bed, but I certainly did cry. They basically challenged me to give up the one thing that destresses me each week. Well, not 'give up'...I think the term was 'replace'.
I don't know if I can do it. Salsa is the one thing I enjoy, that doesn't have emotional rides attached (art) and doesn't cause cancer (fire twirling). I don't drink coffee anymore...(well, like I used to).........I need one little outlet!!!
So Post-Post-Script??
Breaking point.
xxx
Work has become something that brings a sick feeling to my stomach each morning. And it isn't the kids. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be clinically insane by now. My responsibilities have more than quadrupled and my stress levels also. My week now consists of a meeting each morning and each afternoon, and my 'lunch breaks' are dedicated to playground duty, art or dance groups. My 2 hours of release time is dedicated to replenishing art supplies that other teachers have lost or (sadly) stolen. I'm accountable to the principal for the fact that in six months we have lost 150 paintbrush, $240 worth of ink, $60 worth of specialty paint, 120L of primary paint as well as a whole list of miscellaneous items.
I've been getting to school at 6:15 just to get my work prepared for the day. Then when I do plan, I find that all hell breaks loose and my plans get tossed in the bin. Today for example, I began a literacy lesson to see two builders waltz into the classroom, ask me to move my class and procede to barricade off half the room so that they could pull down a removable wall, bolt it back together and replace it.
And if one more 2-day-a-week part-time teachers with no responsibilities tells me I'm really quite lucky because no-one is really busy unless they have a family....they'll get a slapping!
Bottom line is I'm stressed.
No more news of my mum. What could've been basic corrective surgery didn't go to plan, and well...we just have to hang tight.
So the Post Script is I'm emotional.
Driving home today I was fighting back tears and trying not to think about how the deputy principal decided today that I would be great at co-ordinating an art-exhibition day at school. Or about the presentation I have to do tomorrow. Or the meeting that was called for tomorrow morning at the one space I have in my day to pee.
Then a friend called and 'challenged' me. I know it's good, but my goodness I felt horrible afterwards. I wanted to crawl under my bed and cry. Well, I didn't crawl under my bed, but I certainly did cry. They basically challenged me to give up the one thing that destresses me each week. Well, not 'give up'...I think the term was 'replace'.
I don't know if I can do it. Salsa is the one thing I enjoy, that doesn't have emotional rides attached (art) and doesn't cause cancer (fire twirling). I don't drink coffee anymore...(well, like I used to).........I need one little outlet!!!
So Post-Post-Script??
Breaking point.
xxx
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