Go Postal
Today was the first day of the VBS at church. As I said before, I got cornered into volunteering. Four separate people approached me and asked me to help, so I said I would. I was supposed to be working with 5th grade boys, but I was only supposed to be the helper. There is a male college student who has the lessons and everything under control.
Well, I dragged my ass out of bed at 6:50 this morning and got there at 8:00. Then I sat in the church for thirty minutes talking to a few girls. The lady in charge (who happens to be a 24 year old elementary teacher who works in the best district in the freakin' state even though she can't possibly have more than one or two years of experience, but hey, no animocity there or anything) gave me a book with the lessons in it, and then I met the guy who was in charge of our group.
Only a few kids showed up for our class, so I got moved to work with the girls. There were fourteen girls, and five adults in the room. A teacher, a 21 year old assistant, me, and two teenagers. Nobody knew where the kids were supposed to be at any given time, where things were happening, etc. It was a headache. A poorly planned clusterf*ck of a headache.
The girls were good, and it mostly evened out by the end of the day. I could tell they had fun and I think it will be much smoother tomorrow. It's basically just a series of fun things for them to do. They have crafts, games, snacks, etc., and the last thirty minutes is the lesson, which isn't so much a lesson as it is some kind of game that requires them to look at a Bible verse. I am supposed to be teaching that tomorrow because the real teacher can't be there and the backup girl backed out. They slung a book at me and said good luck, basically. I was looking at the lesson, and it didn't make any sense. I don't even know if this book is what I'm supposed to be using. It outlines what you're supposed to do, but keeps saying, "See p. 14 of Some Other Manual," or, "Use Item #4 from the Fun Pack." I asked if they had the items that it was referring to. Nobody knows anything about that. I have no idea what I am going to do. Wing it, I guess.
I'm usually pretty good at winging it, but in this case it would be much easier if I had even been to church a few times in the last 15 years.
I don't even want to go tomorrow. Why did I say I would do this? I wanted to go to church for the first time in many years, and now, a mere two weeks later, I'm already frustrated with the whole scene. They wonder why people are scared to go, and why people stop going. If anyone knew what they were doing, this would be fine. I think it's important for kids to have things to do during the summer, and I'm not too lazy to help make it happen. I just think the people in charge need to make sure the people helping have what they need.
The fact that I only had a few hours of sleep going into it didn't help any. When I got home, I ate lunch and then Ilost consciousness took a nap. For four hours. When I woke up, I couldn't believe how late it was. I was covered in sweat and my face was burning up, and I think that's the only reason I woke up when I did.
Right before I fell asleep, the phone rang. It was a principal from a school far, far away from here. They want to interview me again. I got interviewed the first time sort of by accident. I didn't realize how far away the school is. I'm not even sure exactly how far away it is, but I think it's about 70 miles. I'm driving up there later this week, so I'll find out exactly how far it is then.
We have an empty trailer setting on a bunch of land near there though, and TH says if all else fails and I get no other offers, I should take the job and we'll make the trailer livable and I can crash there when I need to. I don't like the idea. Of course, if I don't get a job this year, that'll likely be it for the teaching thing, so there's a part of me that thinks it'd be worth it for a year. The other part of me remembers how exhausted I felt after working all day and then driving a mere 42 miles home to my cabin in the woods outside Yazoo Shitty. That drive was a bitch. And as far as living in the trailer goes? NO thank you. It's not that I'm too good for a trailer, mind you. It's that I'm too good for a trailer that's been empty for two years, is filthy, and has been broken into and cleaned out by people who make the guys in that movie Deliverance look like a bunch of Rhodes scholars who also happen to live less than a mile away. It's also next door to TH's meth head cousins.
Besides, if I wanted to live alone in miserable conditions while working my ass off for peanuts, I could've stayed where I was before we tied the knot.
Someone closer better call, or I'm getting a job at the post office. The local post office.
Well, I dragged my ass out of bed at 6:50 this morning and got there at 8:00. Then I sat in the church for thirty minutes talking to a few girls. The lady in charge (who happens to be a 24 year old elementary teacher who works in the best district in the freakin' state even though she can't possibly have more than one or two years of experience, but hey, no animocity there or anything) gave me a book with the lessons in it, and then I met the guy who was in charge of our group.
Only a few kids showed up for our class, so I got moved to work with the girls. There were fourteen girls, and five adults in the room. A teacher, a 21 year old assistant, me, and two teenagers. Nobody knew where the kids were supposed to be at any given time, where things were happening, etc. It was a headache. A poorly planned clusterf*ck of a headache.
The girls were good, and it mostly evened out by the end of the day. I could tell they had fun and I think it will be much smoother tomorrow. It's basically just a series of fun things for them to do. They have crafts, games, snacks, etc., and the last thirty minutes is the lesson, which isn't so much a lesson as it is some kind of game that requires them to look at a Bible verse. I am supposed to be teaching that tomorrow because the real teacher can't be there and the backup girl backed out. They slung a book at me and said good luck, basically. I was looking at the lesson, and it didn't make any sense. I don't even know if this book is what I'm supposed to be using. It outlines what you're supposed to do, but keeps saying, "See p. 14 of Some Other Manual," or, "Use Item #4 from the Fun Pack." I asked if they had the items that it was referring to. Nobody knows anything about that. I have no idea what I am going to do. Wing it, I guess.
I'm usually pretty good at winging it, but in this case it would be much easier if I had even been to church a few times in the last 15 years.
I don't even want to go tomorrow. Why did I say I would do this? I wanted to go to church for the first time in many years, and now, a mere two weeks later, I'm already frustrated with the whole scene. They wonder why people are scared to go, and why people stop going. If anyone knew what they were doing, this would be fine. I think it's important for kids to have things to do during the summer, and I'm not too lazy to help make it happen. I just think the people in charge need to make sure the people helping have what they need.
The fact that I only had a few hours of sleep going into it didn't help any. When I got home, I ate lunch and then I
Right before I fell asleep, the phone rang. It was a principal from a school far, far away from here. They want to interview me again. I got interviewed the first time sort of by accident. I didn't realize how far away the school is. I'm not even sure exactly how far away it is, but I think it's about 70 miles. I'm driving up there later this week, so I'll find out exactly how far it is then.
We have an empty trailer setting on a bunch of land near there though, and TH says if all else fails and I get no other offers, I should take the job and we'll make the trailer livable and I can crash there when I need to. I don't like the idea. Of course, if I don't get a job this year, that'll likely be it for the teaching thing, so there's a part of me that thinks it'd be worth it for a year. The other part of me remembers how exhausted I felt after working all day and then driving a mere 42 miles home to my cabin in the woods outside Yazoo Shitty. That drive was a bitch. And as far as living in the trailer goes? NO thank you. It's not that I'm too good for a trailer, mind you. It's that I'm too good for a trailer that's been empty for two years, is filthy, and has been broken into and cleaned out by people who make the guys in that movie Deliverance look like a bunch of Rhodes scholars who also happen to live less than a mile away. It's also next door to TH's meth head cousins.
Besides, if I wanted to live alone in miserable conditions while working my ass off for peanuts, I could've stayed where I was before we tied the knot.
Someone closer better call, or I'm getting a job at the post office. The local post office.
