As the post title may clue you in, I am having sort of a case of the Downs. I am going to list the things that contribute to this. No I'm not. That's a terrible plan. Whatever. It's all I can think about anyway. And nothing that big or terrible. I am aware that this is mood crap.
The awareness is only slightly helpful. Like when someone tells you (when you have some phobia) that it (whatever "it" is) is nothing to be afraid of. That your fear is irrational. Great. You still feel scared. That is what a phobia is. And that is what the mood crap is. So one of my students mocked a kid with CP today and I did not have the wherewithal to flick him in the head like I wanted to. Because I like my job and I would like to keep it. I did yell at him in a polite and professional tone and followed up with another staff member and there will be consequences and a plan going forward with said student. But I still really wish I had been able to flick him in the head. Hard. Because that is an appropriate response. Then my children's bus did not let them off at the correct bus stop. Because of some clerical error in which the bus assignments were pulled from a three-year-old database and instead of getting off at the second stop (it was a substitute driver today) they went to the end of the line with the driver trying to figure out where they were supposed to be. As a bonus, there was a second grade boy on there with my kids whose name wasn't even ON the list. I was waiting with his grandpa. Who only speaks Mongolian. Happily Google Translate enabled me to tell him "Bus skipped stop. Coming back in 20 minutes." After we had already been waiting for half an hour. Then I went home and checked my email and had an existential crisis dealing with my complicated relationship with the group I am singing with. I am coming to the gradual realization that there are irreconcilable differences in the direction we all want to take. I hate to disappoint people. But I think the writing might be on the wall. And that makes me sad and more than a little bit agitated. And my registration for NAMI walks was not done properly so I was not on the IOOV team. But now I am so that's not really a thing. And I am still freaked out about the woman who I made a cuff for. It's finished except for the snaps and I am terrified of contacting her and arranging a time and place to meet. I think I'll just email her a picture and send it to her if she pays me through paypal. Or some other enabling behavior like that. Generalized Anxiety child mentioned trouble at school when the teacher calls on him when he has not raised his hand. And also worrying about whether or not she will call on him when he has not raised his hand. And worried about me calling attention to this by talking to his teachers. So instead I am going through the school nurse because as a teacher if I had a child with an anxiety disorder who would have major issues if I called on them I would want to know. And I might still call on them sometimes but I would be very mindful about the student's nonverbal cues. So see, being a wreck at least makes me a useful parent for a child who is also a wreck. I am being sarcastic. Neither of us are wrecks. We are both just anxious about things that other people might not freak out about. Like dealing with people. And attention. And people paying us too much attention. When we didn't raise our hand. And we didn't sign up to be in such close quarters with them. And we don't really want them to know our name. So I made myself leave the house tonight anyway (even though I really super didn't want to) and play French horn with Grand Symphonic Winds. Which was good. I know when my meds were off and my mood tanked in the past I couldn't get myself out of the house for that. So there is that. The bird (my cockatiel) is whistling an eerily tuneless melody. He sounds terrified. Like he is whistling to himself in a dark and spooky cave to try and convince himself that he isn't scared. Well, he's not fooling anyone. By the way... I'm going back to Romance Novel #1 and doing another set of revisions after receiving a lovely rejection letter (not being sarcastic) from Harlequin Historicals. Okay, now I am going to eat dinner. At 10:00. Which may also contribute to tanked mood. All will look different in the morning. It will be brighter. Grateful Crap: knit clothing that doesn't require ironing Equatorial Actions: emailed band-mate about my reservations texted a friend about my general panic talked with Spouse about general panic and made a plan slept 8 hours last night (disappointed to say I may actually require 8 hours of sleep) Still have not called Psych NP. I think I can do that tomorrow from work. Comments are closed.
|
Archives
May 2020
Categories
All
K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |