Things Over Which I Have No Control

It's best to accept your limitations.  I say that a lot, it seems.  But it's true.  If I didn't take a deep breath sometimes and just let go of my need to control everything, I'd go utterly mad.  I'd end up in a downtown dumpster sorting the refuse.  I don't think that is how I'd like to see my fifteen minutes of fame play out.

Here are just a few of the things I've decided to accept as my Karmic Due lately:

Parent/Teacher Conferences And The Boredom Thereof:

Several people commented yesterday on the absurdity of my having to stay at school until an hour past dark-thirty when I had but two parents scheduled.  The fact that I was sitting in my office and rambling to the inter-webs about my lack of things to do while the taxpayers wrote the check seems pretty ridiculous to me sometimes, too.

However, the teaching contract isn't really designed to be logical.  It is designed to be fair.  The simple fact of the matter is that, if I want to be paid the same as the other teachers and be released for summer vacation along with my colleagues, I need to put in the same number of hours.  There is a limited amount of space into which to fit these hours given the nature of the school year, so I stay. 

For what it's worth, I wasn't completely slug-like.  I did six months of MaineCare insurance billing for day treatment services.  I planned for two days worth of lessons.  I cleaned out my office and got rid of all the stuff from last trimester so I could find the left side of my desk.  There was lots of productive behavior going on.

Until 6:00, anyway.  That's about the time when I lose any and all focus and have to go bother other people or my head will explode.

My Mouth And Its Tendency To Run When It Shouldn't:

We have two secretaries in the main office.  They split the late shifts so that someone would be manning the desk throughout the conferences last night.  I adore both of them and looked forward to bothering them.  They are nice, but in very different ways.

The first shift was covered by The Secretary Who Likes It When I Come Down To Bother Her And Will Talk About Zombie Movies With Me.  She is fun.  She is highly entertained by my antics and enjoyed it immensely when I took a little time out of our conversation to torture the administrators with my pleas to be fired so I could go home.  She also knows more movie quotes than you can even believe and recognizes the ones I toss out every now and again.

The second shift featured The Secretary Who Is Highly Organized And Is Kindly Willing To Overlook The Fact That I Am Not.  She is also The Secretary Who Has Enough Of A Maternal Instinct To Take Care Of All Of Us But In A Somewhat No-Nonsense Manner.  

Going down to bother her was a mistake, as was telling her that I was bored.  She saw this as a challenge.  Rather than entertain me herself as would anyone else who knows the rules of this game, she saw my statement as a problem to be solved.

And so it was that I did not get to knit or watch TV on my computer.  Instead, she found me a task.  She did this, and I kid you not, in under ten seconds.  I spent the last hour and a half of conferences working on the school yearbook.  My job was deleting duplicate and unusable photos.  There were approximately three thousand of them.  

I think I heard my poor, half-finished sock crying from my office.  And I know I saw a smug look on the secretary's face as I headed upstairs to the yearbook advisor.

My Own Home.  My Decor.  My Pets.  And Anything Else Around Here:

I know that I don't have much in the way of decorating sense.  I don't really care about that sort of thing for the most part.  I'm not a total frat boy.  I try to match stuff and I like certain "looks."  But I'll admit that I probably won't be winning any design competitions any time soon.

I don't really have to.  I have someone on staff to do that now.  The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty has a new hobby.  

He is removing the wallpaper.  

It says a lot about my attention to detail that I failed to notice this until I saw him chasing a piece of paper around the floor tonight and thought to take it from him.  We don't want the poor boy choking or anything.  He has apparently been doing some redecorating while I've been out earning a living or sleeping.  Or simply not paying attention.  

Iz outdated 'an uffendz mine aestheticz.  I fixes.

I'm trying to be mature about this.  I hate to be oversensitive.  But I have to admit that it hurts just a bit to have my taste questioned so harshly.  It was even worse when he presented me with a stack of decorating magazines.  He'd put sticky notes on the pages he thought might be nice choices for our new living room decor.  

And he has expensive taste.  I gave him the latest circular from the discount store and told him to get creative.

We are negotiating the matter.  I'll let you know how it goes...

SA