Saturday, November 28, 2015

Alright, we're good now.

A couple of days ago, man, it wasn't a good scene. As I mentioned, I'd even considered taking a day off work just to give my brain a rest.

After writing up that post, I sat in my ugly pink chair in the corner of my living room, with an issue of Sports Illustrated, and read it until I decided a nap was in order. I slept for maybe an hour or two, woke up, had a bite to eat, and felt a whole lot better.

And I continue to feel better and better. Yesterday was a relatively chilled-out day at work -- two of my classes were doing research for presentations on Monday, and my grade 9s played with bulbs and batteries and wires and switches for half a period after a short lesson on parts of an electric circuit, so they were happy as clams.

The only bummer: my toaster-oven is unfixable, and I have to buy a new one. There's a switch on the inside which acts as a safety device; if the door is open, the heat is turned off. I've fixed it once before, but I don't think I can resurrect it again. That pisses me off; it's a perfectly functional toaster-oven, save for one stupid little switch.

(Actually, y'know what, I might just see if I can fix it one last time: I have a can of WD-40 at work, and I might give that switch a little spray to see if I can get the actuator moving. It's stuck in the depressed position, and isn't clicking upwards -- maybe there's just something on the inside gummin' it all up. And, as the old saying goes... if it moves and it shouldn't, use duct tape; if it doesn't move and it should, use WD-40.)

Such is my life on the eve of 38, I guess.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

I am so... burnt... out.

These are the dog-days of fall.

We've been going hard every day, week after week, with one holiday and one PD day, since Labour Day. It's been three months.

And my brain is friiiiiiiiiiiiied.

I even contemplating playing hooky tomorrow, cashing in a fake sick-day, to just stay home, maybe catch up on some marking, and to just give my brain a break. But I ended up not doing it. Haven't done it in 13 years of teaching, and may never do it. We'll see.

My grade 12 physics classes are a bunch of whiners. "Ohhhhh, siirrrrrrrrr, can we pleeeeeeeeease have the quiz tomorrow instead?" My grade 9 science class is mostly okay, except when it's overrun with female-centered drama and this one kid, T, isn't driving me and everyone else in the room absolutely insane.

(I've taught far worse kids than T over the years -- he's actually a funny, interesting kid who's moderately good at science, but holy hell. He can NOT sit still for more than five seconds, asks me questions as if we're the only two people in the room, and says really off-colour things to other people in the class, often not realizing they're off-colour, and this gets other people cranked-up. Countin' down the days with him, that's for sure.)

Plus, my dating life couldn't be going more horribly if I'd purposely set out to make it more horrible. I finally managed to have a nice time with someone on Tuesday... and, as it turns out, she's a pharmacist in the doctor's office in which I'm a patient, and to do anything, she claims, would be a conflict of interest. (We'd never met in person, probably have never seen each other at the hospital, and probably never will.) Or, maybe that's just her creative way to say she's not interested in me. Either way, bleh.

And, I'm turning 38 on Monday, if all that wasn't bad enough.

Hot damn, maybe I really should've taken tomorrow off.

Sunday, November 8, 2015


No, not the restaurant.

(But if they want to give me free stuff, am I gonna stop 'em? Not at all.)

Houses, weddings, babies -- not necessarily in that order, of course, in this postmodern world of ours.

These are three things that people my age are really starting to accomplish.

More accurately:

These are things that peers my age are really starting to accomplish. These aren't only people of my age group, but people in similar situations: educated, employed, fairly firmly settled in the Big Smoke. If I'd stayed in rural southwestern Ontario, this would've passed me by a decade ago; people tend to do things earlier, for a host of reasons (and, houses don't cost a small fortune).

I mean, I started off great: two degrees and full-time employment before 23, car, apartment, a brief sojourn back into academia for grad school... but I was done that at 28.

But now I'm in my last month of 37, and... really, what else have I accomplished? Let's take stock.
  • been a union rep for 9 years (and a de facto one for another) 
  • been a department head for 9-ish years (can't remember exactly when I started)
  • travelled to Europe a few times and seen some great things
  • travelled to far-less-glamorous places and seen a lotta ball games
  • become a moderator at Bless You Boys
All of those things, of course, are stuff that I can do, and have done, alone. And, far from me wanting you to bust out the world's smallest violin, let me assure you that I've had some pretty fantastic experiences: helping people out, providing leadership, eating fantastic French croissants, chatting up random Americans, and getting neck-deep in baseball nerdery.

But yeah. The three aforementioned milestones require, y'know, someone else. And, for the first time in my life, I'm actually starting to get a little antsy. I can only tell myself "oh, I'm young, plenty o' time" for so long before the world around me starts starts to say, "Look around you, buckaroo -- and get going."

* * * * *

For no good reason other than to share it, I found this delicious photo of a young Carole King, presumably sitting at a piano.

Oh my.