Puppies and Heavy Objects

I just got angry at someone. For pulling into the parking lot at work. At the same time as me.

And this person didn’t even try to speak to me.

It was just the threat of forced socialling. At 7:30am. That triggered my anger response.

I continue to run through the standard 2020-2021 educator cycle of hating the existence of everything when I wake up on a weekday. Then feeling mildly pleasant for the first hour or so of getting to interact with the children. Then feeling like I left my soul sitting somewhere, but I can’t find it because I have no idea where I’ve been or what I’ve done all day by the time I get home.

There are at least three points throughout every day when I try to calculate how well I could survive on, say, Kroger or Target pay. But then I have to stop. Because math.

Shits gotta be pretty bad to have folks considering a return to retail work. During a pandemic. Or ever.

But really, how much of a pay cut can it really be. We work in education.

Yesterday NewsAtTin joked that she thought I was quitting because my desk was so clean. She thought I was packing all of my stuff. And casually moving it out. Slowly enough that no one would notice. Until all my shit was gone. And I just stopped showing up to work.

Nah. If I quit, I ain’t packing shit up. I’ve got other pictures of my kids at home. I don’t need those. Ain’t a damn thing in there I need. Ima do like I did my house. And just leave all my shit behind for the next person to deal with.

A house, incidentally, that I no longer own. But still have a mortgage on. Because my mortgage company just cannot seem to be able to put a payoff together. And send it to anyone. Because I need more incompetence in my life.

And every time I have to call them. To re-re-re-request a payoff statement. The stress response in my back just grows. The knots that only lifting heavy shit seems to relieve.

Sunday I saw a Uhaul outside the apartment building. After joking to Fall Risk and Rogue that if I just became a professional mover. My back may never hurt again. (I’m certain my logic works there.)

So I kind of casually waited around near it. Pretending to be reading something on my phone. You know, super casual. And not at all suspect. Until the people came out. And I could offer to help them move. By grabbing hold of whatever they were carrying. And knocking them out of the way.

They never came out.

So then I went wandering through the halls of the school. In the non-gym area. Where I always feel like I’m about to get snatched up by a principal. And given detention.

Detention sounds nice.

Relaxing.

But I went wandering through the school. Trying to accidentally bump into them. You know. Just super casual.

I always wander around the parts of the building I don’t live in.

Anyway. I never found the moving folks.

They were probably hiding. So the stalker-looking chick without a hall pass couldn’t offer to help. Selfish bastards.

I did finally meet a neighbor who was willing to let me pet his puppy.

That’s…that’s not a euphemism, Rogue.

The people in this building be real selfish with their pets.

The dude with the 2 month old Pitty pup won’t let me near him.

How the hell you gonna bring that much cuteness out in the world and not let people cuddle it???

I work in education, for fuck’s sake!!!! I need this!!!!!

It’s fine.

Bill let me pet his JoJo.

(Stop it, Rogue. It’s not a euphemism.)

After I just sat down on the ground in front of him. And refused to move.

I am not leaving until I get to pet something.

Also, I’m a very stable and intelligent person, Bill. In case…that…wasn’t obvious.

I’d like to stop having to tell people that…

But I felt a little better about the world. After petting Bill’s JoJo.

Until I got inside. And remembered that I need to set up my class that starts next week. Because even after vowing not to work any extra jobs this year. Because working extra jobs means I have to pay taxes at the end of the year. Because shady government. I had to take on teaching a class. To cover my taxes for this year. Because my stimulus check is wandering around the post office. Because my bank got bought out. Which changed my direct deposit information. And I moved. Which changed my mailing address. So all of that confused the IRS. And they keep saying that the easiest way for me to get my lost stimulus check is to file my taxes. So I can enter my new bank account information. For the direct deposit. For my refund. Except that I don’t get a refund. I have to pay taxes. And I need the stimulus to pay my taxes. So I’m not filing my taxes until I get my stimulus. But I can’t get my stimulus. Until…

*sigh*

Excuse me. I need to go over here and fill out this Walmart job application. After I go cry in the bathroom real quick. It should be my turn to do that soon…

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