Today I subbed in a 5th grade class. Not to be cheeky (OH MY GOODNESS… NEW WORD. I’m totally using that from now on. Seriously, how great is that word?), but they totally loved me. And when I say they “loved” me, I mean they LOOOOOOVED me. As in, “Ms. Evans! Why aren’t you going to be here tomorrow?! Why do we have a different sub tomorrow?! I hate that other sub! If you’re here today, why aren’t you here tomorrow?! UGH!” (Insert all manner of adolescent angst here.) It would actually have earned them points if they hadn’t been such turkeys the rest of the day.
No, to be honest, I had a blast with them. I haven’t been in an upper elementary classroom in nearly a year (all my subbing gigs have been K-3 for some odd reason…), and I honestly wasn’t sure if I would appreciate them as much as I had in the past. Turns out, the older kids are just as hysterical as I remember, and they totally appreciate my dorky sense of humor. Plus, they don’t need help getting their snowpants on. Score!
Aaaaaanyhoodles… (See? I told you Twitter followers I would use it…) this post isn’t actually about my excellent adventures with the 5th graders. While on my lunchbreak (which turned out to be 2 HOURS LONG… do you know how long 2 hours is when you don’t have decent reading material??? ER. MER. GERD.) I was plotting out this month’s schedule, budget and assorted plans. Turns out, I have a lot to do and not much money with which to do it. (Could it be because 3 SUBBING GIGS WERE CANCELLED AT THE LAST MINUTE WITH NO EXPLANATION?! Ugh… you’re killing me, peeps…) This concern made me begin to wonder… and worry… and work myself into a tizzy… over my plans.
Ah… yes. My “plans”. I sat and stared at my planner realizing that I had… none. No plans. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Once June hits, I am screwed over. No money from subbing. Diddly squat from alimony. Savings? Sure. But there’s a reason they’re called “savings”… stay with me, people. And so… as I am wont to do… I went into full-on “freak-out” mode.
What are you going to do? You need to find a summer job. Where are you going to find a summer job? Do you even want a summer job? How old are you!? How many 30 somethings need a summer job? A summer job?! Who would even hire you? They’re going to give you the same, “You’re way over-qualified,” spiel they always give you because they don’t want to pay you more than $8.50 an hour. So, just find a full time teaching job, dill hole! Full-time teaching job? Do you even want a full-time teaching job? Doesn’t that make you a “working stiff”? You HATED being that person! And what about your writing? You know that’s going to go down the tubes once you start working for the man. And where are you going to find this “full time teaching gig”? Where else? The nearest metropolitan area… where jobs are plentiful and everyone is miserable. YAY! You’re right back where you started, dumbass… except minus the ass hat. Does that really matter though, when you need food to eat, a place to live, and cute clothes to purchase? Nah. Not so much! So, what’s the plan? Figure it out… you have 3 months before you are royally screwed over, Annie. Get cracking. Find a job. Be miserable. Buy a dozen cats. Die alone. End scene.
By the time, the kids got back in the classroom, they may have found me like this:
And then I had to get over it and be awesome again for their sakes.
Anyway… my question is this: Does anyone else feel woefully unprepared for the future? Void of any substantial plans? Struggling to figure out whether to “go for it” or just “do what you gotta do”? I feel completely lost and totally panicked because… well…
What’s the plan, Stan?
Gif Source: ryjonka.tumblr.com