I am living the 9-5 life again. It's strange. I dislike schedules. I have a hard time getting out of bed. I just lay there, and lay there. I test the clock. It's about 8 minutes fast, but I tell myself it's 10 minutes fast. I usually get up 15 minutes later than I should, and I have to rush around. Then I have to speed. 40 down Capitol, 10-15 over on the freeway, all the way, to make the 35-40 minute drive in 30 minutes. I've been fifteen minutes late once, and five minutes late several times, and I haven't even been employed there a full month, yet. The atmosphere is laid back, so I don't really sweat it, and one day I stayed a few minutes late to finish tutoring a girl. But part of me wonders if I am attempting slightly to sabotage myself. The insecurity I normally carry has been intensified by the low self esteem that comes with adjunct teaching, and I am second-guessing myself like a motherfucker.
I was talking with acquaintances this weekend, explaining how it's even stressful to send emails now that I have the title of "writing specialist." I mean fuck, that doesn't allow me to making any typing mistakes at all. I have made one or two anyway, minor things, and only while emailing to the people I work with directly. I proofread the mass email I sent to faculty and staff upteen times, because I don't feel that I can ask someone else to proofread for me, as the writing specialist, even though those fluorescent lights burn holes in my eyes some days. I'm also preoccupied with conciseness. I have to get that academic conciseness back. I need to write more and more and more.
So that's hard, and there was some tension today. Driving home, stuck in the jam at 894 almost everyday. It fucking blows. I haven't been eating enough, either, and last Thursday I didn't eat lunch when I should have and I was a loony during my reading skills class. An incoherent loony teacher who had to keep asking if she was being clear. Man! Gotta avoid that! Gotta model behavior I expect from my students, because I just advised one to eat before he began his paper. Last Friday. He was so jumpy. He told me hadn't eaten much, so I said, eat! Dang.
They seemed to like the Sex and the City episode. Miranda says "fuck that bitch" twice and Harry's white little ass floats around almost the entire episode, but I forgot about the part where Samantha describes tea-bagging as "You know, when you put the guy's balls in your mouth." Shit. I hope I don't get fired! But I did check in with the English department chair, and she said it would be all right as long as I could justify it educationally, and I could.
I have overly socialized myself the past three weekends. Too much drinking, and talking, and being out and about, and people watching, gossiping, bickering, drinking…This weekend, on Friday, I drank a bottle of wine in an hour at Jana's and then went to a new acquaintance's house and irritated his neighbors with my big, drunken babble. Ah, yes, the mouth of Milwaukee in full effect. I felt bad when I found out yesterday, when I was at Taylor's, of all places, for a charity auction-type-thing (where someone bought me a drink because I kept an eye on his $20 bill that flew into the ice vat--yay!). Friday also brought me to some other acquaintances' house, folks from the p-rock days that I only vaguely knew but always liked. We watched us some eighties heavy metal videos. Dee Snider sure has a huge fucking bulge. My hangover Saturday was severe, and I could not really walk up right until after 2pm. A few of us went to Center Street days in the rain, stopping at Foundation first for a blueberry Stoli and tonic, which really cut through my hangover (must have been the antioxidants in the distilled blueberries, like my friend pointed out!) Those events are allright. It's something free to do, outside, and you run into people you know, but then sometimes that's not so pleasurable.
Saturday night was the oi band's reunion show, which I attended mainly to hang out with friends and support my out of the country friend's bro, who is in the band. I have really little knowledge of oi, but the spirit of that music is extremely contagious. It's powerful in a unique way, I think. Lyrically, it's pretty apathetic (I do understand these dudes were young when they wrote the songs), and I don't always dig that, although sometimes I can…and some of the fans are knuckleheads, but most of the people "in the pit" weren't even skins, they were punks, and there weren't any brawls. The singer for the band is really fucking sexy, too. I sort of just stood back and took it in, getting annoyed only once when a bunch of backwashed Blatz hit me in the side of the face.
Last weekend was slightly similar, the Bayview bash during the day on Sunday, and hanging out with folks from the p-rock days at night. It's been fun, and interesting, reconnecting with these guys, reading mentions of some of them in my journals. Our goofy little crowd that day, me, Brazilians, my sports loving raver dude friends, and the p-rock grown ups. Up too late, though, and hangover on Sunday…which was ok, because my plan for the day was to watch the WB farewell all day with yet another recent acquaintance who I slightly remembered from fucking 14 years ago. Man, there's something going on with all of this. It's hardest with the boys. I don't know if my feelings come from the now or the past. Don't know how to act. Can only let time pass, to see, I guess. But I'm feeling salty I haven't been more productive. I was really wiggy and depressed last week, but I'm feeling pretty good right now, even though I think I'm getting a cold. Next Sat my girl from Chicago is coming to visit, well, one of them, so I hope I ain't sicky then…
I was talking with acquaintances this weekend, explaining how it's even stressful to send emails now that I have the title of "writing specialist." I mean fuck, that doesn't allow me to making any typing mistakes at all. I have made one or two anyway, minor things, and only while emailing to the people I work with directly. I proofread the mass email I sent to faculty and staff upteen times, because I don't feel that I can ask someone else to proofread for me, as the writing specialist, even though those fluorescent lights burn holes in my eyes some days. I'm also preoccupied with conciseness. I have to get that academic conciseness back. I need to write more and more and more.
So that's hard, and there was some tension today. Driving home, stuck in the jam at 894 almost everyday. It fucking blows. I haven't been eating enough, either, and last Thursday I didn't eat lunch when I should have and I was a loony during my reading skills class. An incoherent loony teacher who had to keep asking if she was being clear. Man! Gotta avoid that! Gotta model behavior I expect from my students, because I just advised one to eat before he began his paper. Last Friday. He was so jumpy. He told me hadn't eaten much, so I said, eat! Dang.
They seemed to like the Sex and the City episode. Miranda says "fuck that bitch" twice and Harry's white little ass floats around almost the entire episode, but I forgot about the part where Samantha describes tea-bagging as "You know, when you put the guy's balls in your mouth." Shit. I hope I don't get fired! But I did check in with the English department chair, and she said it would be all right as long as I could justify it educationally, and I could.
I have overly socialized myself the past three weekends. Too much drinking, and talking, and being out and about, and people watching, gossiping, bickering, drinking…This weekend, on Friday, I drank a bottle of wine in an hour at Jana's and then went to a new acquaintance's house and irritated his neighbors with my big, drunken babble. Ah, yes, the mouth of Milwaukee in full effect. I felt bad when I found out yesterday, when I was at Taylor's, of all places, for a charity auction-type-thing (where someone bought me a drink because I kept an eye on his $20 bill that flew into the ice vat--yay!). Friday also brought me to some other acquaintances' house, folks from the p-rock days that I only vaguely knew but always liked. We watched us some eighties heavy metal videos. Dee Snider sure has a huge fucking bulge. My hangover Saturday was severe, and I could not really walk up right until after 2pm. A few of us went to Center Street days in the rain, stopping at Foundation first for a blueberry Stoli and tonic, which really cut through my hangover (must have been the antioxidants in the distilled blueberries, like my friend pointed out!) Those events are allright. It's something free to do, outside, and you run into people you know, but then sometimes that's not so pleasurable.
Saturday night was the oi band's reunion show, which I attended mainly to hang out with friends and support my out of the country friend's bro, who is in the band. I have really little knowledge of oi, but the spirit of that music is extremely contagious. It's powerful in a unique way, I think. Lyrically, it's pretty apathetic (I do understand these dudes were young when they wrote the songs), and I don't always dig that, although sometimes I can…and some of the fans are knuckleheads, but most of the people "in the pit" weren't even skins, they were punks, and there weren't any brawls. The singer for the band is really fucking sexy, too. I sort of just stood back and took it in, getting annoyed only once when a bunch of backwashed Blatz hit me in the side of the face.
Last weekend was slightly similar, the Bayview bash during the day on Sunday, and hanging out with folks from the p-rock days at night. It's been fun, and interesting, reconnecting with these guys, reading mentions of some of them in my journals. Our goofy little crowd that day, me, Brazilians, my sports loving raver dude friends, and the p-rock grown ups. Up too late, though, and hangover on Sunday…which was ok, because my plan for the day was to watch the WB farewell all day with yet another recent acquaintance who I slightly remembered from fucking 14 years ago. Man, there's something going on with all of this. It's hardest with the boys. I don't know if my feelings come from the now or the past. Don't know how to act. Can only let time pass, to see, I guess. But I'm feeling salty I haven't been more productive. I was really wiggy and depressed last week, but I'm feeling pretty good right now, even though I think I'm getting a cold. Next Sat my girl from Chicago is coming to visit, well, one of them, so I hope I ain't sicky then…
posted by Jen Threat at
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