Blog Spammers are Jerks

What is up with the blog spammers? What a crush to see comments to my post have absolutely nothing to do with my post, but want me to come to their blog where they're selling cat furniture (uh, all the furniture in my house is cat furniture) and dietary supplements. Yeah, right, that has a lot to do with my writing about a new job and my having my dog put down. "Great blog! A lot of fun to read" one said. Spammers are jerks. And then some.

New Job Second Thoughts

I’m getting ready to teach my first class at my new college on Monday. And for the first time since moving here, I’ve been hit with a twang of disappointment, bordering on wondering if I’ve made a mistake, career-wise.

Sure, there are some great benefits to this new school, and I know that over the years, I will have opportunities here to develop myself as a teacher that I did not have at my old school. There are education classes offered for teachers right through the college, and I’m interested in taking each and every one of them. There is support for faculty here to continue their education and to be involved in staff development. There is a teaching learning center here that supports instructional innovation and will assist teachers in developing new direction for old assignments in their classes. In all, that seems great.

Of course, there’s also the extracurriculars going on throughout the year – speakers, events, workshops – both here on the campus and in the surrounding communities. Okay, I tell myself, this is all good. So what went “wrong” to cause my wave of second thoughts?

I went and looked at my classrooms. The first word that came to mind: ghetto.

I’m in classrooms with old-style desks – one with the kind of chairs with the desks attached, another with chairs that look as though they were second-hand from some elementary school, with those crappy faux wood-top tables with brown metal supports – retro, I suppose, if I wanted to see it in some positive vein.

Chalkboards. Chalkboards? What top-notch college uses chalkboards anymore? And I saw no chalk on the holders, so I know there’s going to be a supplies issue with this already. An overhead in one room, nothing electronic in the other, and the third, I couldn’t even get into, nor look into because of the green tape over the window. What the heck is that all about?

So, I go from a school where I had a computer projector in my classroom for everyday use, to feeling as though I’ve been thrown back in time about 15 years.

And it’s not just that. I have no lit classes, and no hope that any will come anytime soon. I say it doesn’t matter, but the distinction between faculty is clear here – those who have and those who have not. I’ve even been in conversations where I feel as though I’ve been ignored by my colleagues because I don’t have lit classes – how could I possibly have anything to say about literature? Or how could I even be considered a writer if I don’t have an MFA and a creative writing class to teach?

I left a school where I had three lit classes a year, and had developed a fourth. I was teaching online and in the classroom, I had technology at my fingertips on a daily basis, I organized and was asked to read at public readings. So, can you understand this feeling of, “What have I done?”

I told myself I could do this. I could give up the lit and sit at the bottom of the pond and enjoy what I got. I have to just remind myself of that. I have to just remind myself that I can teach with nothing more than pencil and paper. And I suppose it’s going to be this first term that is the practical reminder of my roots. It’s just going to be frustrating at first, and I also fear it may be harder for me later to be able to go back to the techniques I used to use – computers and other electronic aids – like some kind of yo-yo that gets its string twisted and can’t bounce back up as quickly, or at all.

I Need Nap Time

I have just had the first day of my new teaching job, and I'm friggin' exhausted. Is frigging in the dictionary yet?

I'm just wondering if I ever had enough energy to go through what I went through today and not come away feeling as though someone had vacumed my soul out, scrubbed it with a bristle brush and then slung it over my shoulder on the way out the door. I think I can say with some certainty (is that contradictory?) that I never had the energy for such full days of work. From 8am to nearly 7pm, being "on" the whole time, talking to colleagues, sitting in on workshops, eating in front of others (not a leisure task by any means - extra wipes of the mouth to be sure there's no mustard, sipping instead of gulping, etc.) - even bathroom breaks provided no "down" time, other than the actual act of sitting.

No, I can distinctly remember, even in college, having been a napper. I love to nap. Not only that, I think I NEED to nap. There have also been plenty of recent studies that show a correlation between workers getting nap time and increased productivity that makes up for the time "lost" for the nap. If increased productivity means making me less bitchy when I'm feeling wiped out, then I'm all for it, and no doubt so are my students.

I can lie down and sleep for exactly one hour, then get up and get on with my day. Sometimes, if I've not had a good night's sleep, I might nap two hours, but generally not more than that. When I've had long work days at school, I shut my office door, turn off the lights and nap sitting up in my chair. This is really only good for about a 15 minute nap, but it's enough. I've tried curling up on the floor, but it doesn't work for me.

I'm going to have to seriously consider taking in a nap mat of some sort. A yoga mat. Sure, that could seem innocent enough - "Oh, yes, I do yoga in my office sometimes..." Or should I just come out and say, "No, it's my nap mat." And really, who doesn't remember their kindergarten nap mat? Certainly that will find a soft spot - no pun intended - with anyone who would ask. For that matter, I think I may as well haul in a blanket and pillow. I mean, you never know when a freak storm might find me stranded on campus overnight... Does that sound plausible enough?

Isabelle's Ashes

The vet called today. I have caller ID, so I knew it was them, and still I answered the phone. She asked for me.
"We have Isabelle's remains."
"Okay, thank you," I say and hang up.
Isabelle's remains.
All that remains of Isabelle.
Ready to be picked up now.
The finality weights me soundly to mortality, to the reality of loss.
All that remains.