Well. I survived. I think that’s about all I can say about Inservice today.
Which is obviously a lie as I’m about to go into complete detail about what happened and why it was such an exhausting experience. And believe me, I am extremely exhausted!
What’s worse is that it isn’t that “I worked so hard that I am satisfied and will sleep well,” kind of exhausted, but rather the “I did nothing productive all day, but somehow my brain is numb” kind of exhausted.
It was the longest first day back I’ve ever experienced, minus possibly my very first teaching position, but that was because I chose to stay late and get my classroom decorated and organized the way I wanted it to be.
It was a small school, and they gave me my own set of keys right away, complete with the code for the alarm so that I could stay as late as was necessary. I went to inservice, and we were allowed to wear jeans and t-shirts, and just generally be comfortable. There was a half a day worth of introductions and going over rules, and a half a day devoted to filling out paperwork for things like insurance. Then everyone else went home, and I stayed to get my room set up.
That night I was NOT as exhausted as I am now, and yet I did easily three times as much work.
Today, I had to be at the school by 7 AM. Almost unheard of for the first day back. Our normal time is between 6:30 and 7, but usually, the first day back you get a little reprieve. Usually, if you have to go back that early, it’s because the school has breakfast for you.
Not so this time around, which saddened me. I’d made an assumption that we needed to be there that early specifically for a surprise breakfast. I was wrong.
It wasn’t that big of a deal, though. It was just a mild distraction, along with the already tried feeling I was struggling with.
I couldn’t sleep last night. I was nervous… probably because I didn’t know what to expect. I was going through all the possibilities. I didn’t know how the people would react to me. I didn’t know who was going to be my team leader, or what the schedule was for the day. I didn’t know who would still be there and who would be gone because they’d found a different job. I didn’t know if I was on the list of people who were liked or disliked…
Though being moved to the Freshman hall suggested I was on the disliked list.
It was all up in the air, which kept me up all night. At just around 3 AM, I finally found myself not tossing and turning and questioning the meaning of existence. Well, that and I decided to finally start watching The Fall on Netflix.
It’s been on my To Watch list for a while, and my sleeplessness last night seemed like the perfect time to watch an episode or two to unwind. I didn’t really know what it was about, only that it had Gillian Anderson in it, and looked kind of X-Filesy but couldn’t be too X-Filesy since they’d recently brought back the actual X-Files.
Turns out it’s better, but without the paranormal aspect. It’s a very disturbing mix of sexy and sadistic in certain episodes, kind of like what MJ Lewis (from our month long foray into romance/erotica writing) writes. He mixes horror and erotica, and this show does that to a lesser extent as well.
Plus, Gillian Anderson’s character is a full on feminist bad ass in the best possible way! Well… at least in that way where a woman acts like the stereotypical man does, and she occasionally gloats about being more like a man in her sexual escapades.
“Woman f*cks man. Woman subject, man object…”
That is such a great line.
And sadly so very true.
On a related note, but not quite a relevant one, the Boy and I had/have discussed this sort of thing before. He tells me he thinks it should be easy for me to find men to please me with no strings attached. I tell him it’s not that easy.
The problem is that there are some women who have a high appetite for such things, when the mood strikes (which it hasn’t lately), and one of a handful of things usually happens. Most often, that type of woman needs the sex more than most men are comfortable with. The man usually assumes that the need for physical intimacy is the same as the need for emotional intimacy.
Or, as what happened with the Bartender, because most women need the emotional as much, if not more than the physical, a man assumes they have to feed a girl a fantasy of emotional intimacy in order to get the physical.
When I tried to slow the Bartender down emotionally, he got weird on me. Told me he didn’t know how to be any other way because he was simply expressing his feelings. He gave me the emotional side of it, which I told him not to do if he wasn’t looking for something long term. He couldn’t accept that it was possible to have the physical without the emotional, or perhaps for him, he couldn’t have one without at least the appearance of the other… but on his terms.
That’s the part that always annoys me. Men expect sex on their terms. They expect to have to woo in order to get it, but when they want it, they simply want it, and that is okay. But if the woman is the one who becomes the pursuer, it’s wrong. The men seem to get their feelings hurt about being used. They accuse the woman of using them for only the physical, or they insist that she must actually be more emotionally attached than she is.
The woman loses no matter how it goes.
What makes the character, Stella Gibson, so remarkable is that she has no qualms telling a man that he’s not worth her time anymore because he was just a one-night-stand. Or a “sweet night,” as she calls it, a term she gets from an occasionally referenced culture where men and women do not cohabitate. The woman invites the man over for a night, but he is to be gone by morning.
And thus, I’m kind of enthralled by this show.
In hindsight, I think perhaps that is what the Bartender meant when he told me he needed me to be strong like I was in the beginning. In the beginning, I promised him the hard-hearted, no strings attached of Stella Gibson, but when he countered with an emotional fantasy, I fell for the fantasy and some part of me knew it was only going to end with pain, and I became weak.
I cried when he would say something about it ending. Particularly when he would say something about me finding someone who was better suited for me, because he was giving me what I wanted… but it was a fantasy, and him saying the words proved it was a fantasy.
Maybe that’s why I like the show so much…
Either way, I watched all of the first season last night instead of going to sleep at a decent hour.
And then to be stuck doing mostly nothing from 7 AM until a little after 5 PM was just enough to make me loopy with sleep deprivation.
Yeah, convocation lasted 2 hours longer than it was supposed to, meaning I didn’t get to go home until after 5. A couple of us at least tried to look excited…
I think we only succeeded in looking crazy… which is kind of how I felt about the whole thing, anyhow.
But I got my mail afterwards, and had some nice surprises in there. I had ordered the Loot Crate Fangirl box, and, holy cow! Is there ever awesome stuff in there! I’m super excited about most of the stuff in that one, even though there’s some stuff that will purely go in my treasure chest at the school.
I also had ordered the Singles Swag Petite box… not because I’m petite, but because it had less stuff and I wasn’t sure if it would be any good. The stuff I got was nice, but the one that would probably have the most use was broken. It was supposed to be a Three Tea Cleanser, as in soap made from three different teas.
The box that it was shipped in wasn’t sealed and looked like it had been smooshed, so obviously the “frosted glass [reusable] bottle” was broken into little pieces with a really nice smelling soap all over the inside of the box.
At least they’re willing to replace it. Or give me next month’s box for free. I opted for the second. That way I can see if this was just a glitch, or if the shipping department is really just that crappy. If the second, then next month will be the last time I get their product.
Hopefully it’s not that bad.
And if that wasn’t enough to round out my day of emotional ups and downs to lead to absolute exhaustion, just found out that apparently my roommate has decided to sell her house.
I can’t believe I have to go through that trauma. Again. Why take on a roommate if you just plan to sell your house? And why not say something? Why am I finding out because the realtor came by to look at the house and my roommate forgot about the appointment?
I’m going to go double my anti-anxiety meds and pass out now.