Today was a beautiful summer day. I spent a lot of time outdoors, and created a new raised flower bed, where I planted purple shamrocks and white impatiens.

I know there’s a lot of work to be done, but I’m feeling so much better thanks to summer being here. There’s still some big challenges ahead but I feel like I can face them.

I seriously have to wonder if I should continue my teaching job. On the one hand, I do enjoy it. On the other, it sure did give me a lot of stress this year. Annoyingly, even though my performance was evaluated by the community, I STILL have not received an evaluation from Personnel. I did hear from them verbally (”You have nothing to worry about…”); nevertheless, I feel really annoyed that I haven’t been given my evaluation letter or any official feedback.

If they weren’t going to take my evaluation seriously, what did I need to have so much stress and anxiety about?

And sadly, it really all boils down to one family. One cuckoo family can have such a horribly big negative impact on my psyche? That seems really unfair. If not for this one family, this one child’s problematic behavior, would I have spent the last month of school feeling like a mental patient?

The relief I feel is truly tangible. But what about next year? I can’t help but ask myself… is that kid coming back next year? Rumor has it that he might not. Of course, there’s always conflict, in any job. Could be anyone, any kid– and I have to be strong enough to handle it.

If this was trial by fire, then the question is whether I am now forged by fire, or just burnt out? I will think about this, more.

I went to PennDOT today to get my photo taken for my driver’s license.

Now, I know, and you know, that driver’s license photos are always unflattering, right? But PennDOT is kind and wise, or maybe just kinda wise. They let you see your photo before it is printed on your license. You can do it over if you don’t like it. As much as you want.

My first try was awful. I’d tried to smile, and it just looked like gas, or something, and WHOAH, HELLO DOUBLE CHIN! Yikes! I asked her to do it over.

The second try was better, but also looked bizarre. Who is that crazy lady, was my first thought. Then I remembered, oh yeah, that’s me. The smile was kind of rictus-looking, but the chins were a little less obvious. The hair looked okay for a crazy lady.

On the other hand, a few nights ago I went out to a party* with Drob, and I got all dressed up. I even put body makeup on my boobages. Glittery boobages! I borrowed a swanky sexy red dress and did my hair and put on makeup. I can’t believe there are people who actually do that every day! Ok, not the dress, but the rest of it. Everyone told me I looked great (hot, beautiful, pretty, awesome, etc.) That was nice. Should have gotten my driver’s license photo done that night. Of course, that isn’t possible, and there’s something wrong about getting your driver’s license photo taken when you are stumbling around, having had too many mojito’s.

Still, and anyway, it’s good to know that I can clean up nice from time to time. I had the worst headache ever the next morning, but I don’t regret it at all. It’s not like I made out with random strangers and puked on my shoes. THAT would be a crazy party.

*Fundraiser for school! Does that count? Yes, it does, because I got kinda drunk and danced around in a distinctly undignified way.

It’s here, my week off from work. But I don’t feel happy and relaxed. I feel stressed and pressed for time. I have a bunch of things that I would like to do, and I don’t know where to begin. At the same time, I want to curl up under the blankets and nap all day. At the same time, I want to go see 3 films today, it’s the last day of the Philly Cine Fest. And there’s approximately 75 loads of laundry that need to be done. Because Carla has no clean pants to wear. She’s literally walking around the house with nothing on her lower half. And it is chilly. We had HAIL earlier for dog’s sake. And we’re out of cat food. And there’s meat in the fridge that needs to be cooked into something. And there’s a pile of dishes the size of Miami in the sink. And the living room needs painting. And the garden needs tending. And there are accounts to be balanced. And. And. And. And.

And the kids say I should make crafts with them. And go to the zoo. And. And. And.

And I have my period. And I’m out of tampons.

Code red — high likelihood of parental freak out.

Oddly enough, it’s the squeakiness of my left shoe, that seems to be irking me the most. I’m not at all flustered by the play dates, only mildly disturbed by the massive pile of dishes (oh HAI, dishes, you back again?! %^?!@@#!). I’m just a little bugged by the kitty in heat who makes a lot of those little eeping and beeping noises, and who keeps stepping on my hands as I try to write this blog post. The fact that she’s a stinky little cat doesn’t bother me, and it’s rather cute the way she demands physical affection constantly.

But my shoe. UGH. My Damned Left Shoe!

You see, I’m a very weird woman, this much my friends all know (and hopefully love, for the most part). I pretty much wear the same shoes and the same (style, size) jeans every day. (I have about 8 pairs of the same damn jeans). My shoes are Dr. Martens, and I love them dearly. But OH NO!!! I have worn out the bottom of my left shoe, and it has a little hole which leads to the air pocket (Air Wairs! Yay!), and that air pocket goes Squish, Squish every time I step with it.

I hate shoe shopping. (another sign that I am not a normal woman, right?) So I usually shop online for shoes and have them shipped to me. After all, I always buy the same brand, same size, so not a big risk. But you know what??? GRRR! I can’t seem to find the right shoes for me. Even the internet is against me.

And as I walk around trying to get things done around here (and there is MUCH to do), Squish, Step, Squish, Step…. UGH. I am going nuts from this.

Watch out world, the entropy level of the Pann household has hit an all time high, and the sound of doom goes Squish.

… I’ll manage a mixed age group of kids for nine and a half hours straight. This is tomorrow, after such a long day today.

Today I drove a total of 270 miles to visit my mom and return home again the same day. Actually my brother & his family were visiting my mom, too. Because my brother lives about 10 hours away, I don’t see them all that often. It was only logical that we make the drive up to visit with them.

I got to finally meet my nephew. Oh sure, I’ve met him before, but never as a Talking Person. He was always a baby or toddler on previous visits, but now he’s just the cutest little boy I have ever met. He has big blue eyes and blond hair. I complimented his parents on how adorable he is, and how much I liked his haircut. My brother thanked me, as is polite in our culture, but my sister in law mumbled something about how he needs a haircut.

My sister-in-law is a really poorly socially-adjusted misfit who is intentionally rude and dislikes me and my mom intensely. She won’t make eye contact, she won’t talk at all directly to either me or my mother. (Or my dad, when she’s visiting him, by the way.) She either says nothing, or else talks obsessively and endlessly (to my brother, not me or my mom, but in front of us) about things that are not really good conversation with anyone else. (Examples: the technical aspects of what makes a saint a saint; minor differences in various branches of Catholicism; what her brother said about some pizza he once ate; etc.)

For a long time, I just thought she was weird. Later on, I thought she just disliked me. Then I came to think she was a rude bitch. Then I thought maybe she has some kind of psychological disorder. I thought and searched and tried to figure this out. I kind of decided on Asperger’s. Now I’m thinking that really makes it sound like I think people’s with Apsbie’s are unbearable. That’s probably unfair to the people who have Asperger’s.

So here’s my internet bloggie friends question: Anyone know what untreated, unmanaged Asperger’s in adults looks like? Does this sound familiar to you? I really don’t know anyone like my sister-in-law. Frankly, that’s a good thing.

But the real question is WHY does my brother put up with her.

They’re having another baby, which we found out through Facebook (SIL is friends with my mother, apparently because my brother “made” her accept the friend request). This whole visit I could totally tell that SIL is pregnant– she is fat in that round kind of way. But NOT ONCE was this information shared directly with me, so I didn’t say anything. I’m not friends with SIL on Fb, and believe me, I am actually NOT interested in changing that fact. I can’t stand the woman. She can’t stand me either.

She still maintains that Obama was actually born in Kenya. (me: “Oh, I didn’t know Hawai’i was part of Kenya.”) She is a bitter defeated Catholic Republican Palin supporter! She makes my skin crawl for this and many, many other reasons. WHY oh WHY did my brother get involved with this whack job?

Fortunately, they do have some cool kids. I really adore my nephew. AND his adorable hair. My nieces are getting really big. Both of them have been struck by puberty– they are kind of chunky and that is probably driving them more quickly through the maturation process. We had a nice enough visit today; none of the wailing, screaming, biting or scratching kind of fighting was to be seen.

Did I mention how taken I am with my nephew!!!??? OMG what a cute kid. He’s by far the cutest of their kids. I wonder whether they are having a girl or a boy this time. Not like I could ask, since I don’t even know she’s pregnant, since THEY HAVEN’T TOLD ME YET.

Sigh. Well tonight it’s getting late and I’m tired. I have much to do tomorrow. My kids don’t know it but they are staying home in the morning. Cammy will be home, as she was let go from her job not long ago. If they want to join me at school, Cammy will bring them over. I was going to have them come with me for this marathon childcare day, but if they don’t have to, then I think that’s better. I think they deserve a day off, don’t you?

So here’s the state of, well, everyone I know — at least I think so.

To one degree or another we’re all full of this slippery spidery anxiety, driving us along our days. The election is tomorrow. The election is tomorrow.

Here in Pennsylvania, there is no early voting. Here in Philadelphia, we anticipate huge turn-out, as our very blue city, with its wonderfully diverse population, will attempt to single-handedly hand Pennsylvania over to Senator Barack Obama. That he’s African American is really only a small part of the story, let me tell you.

For some voters, sure, that makes the deal all the sweeter. It’s a beautiful thing, and many black people I know feel a sense of awe and redemption, that IN THEIR LIFETIME, that it may come to pass that a person of color could possibly approach the White House. Yes, that is incredible. But you know what? The white people I know feel that way, too. We Liberal White Folk are also in awe and feel a sense of redemption, that IN OUR LIFETIME, it could really and truely come to pass that a person of color could step into the chief executive role of the nation.

But much, much more important to me than Obama’s racial heritage is the fact that he is so clearly a man with values that match closely with my own. McCain says he’s the most liberal senator there is. Hooray! GREAT news!!!

The polls are encouraging, but believe me, we are all so anxious for this to be over, for it to go well, to see at last, an overwhelmingly BLUE nation. A victory, and not by a narrow margin.

We are all planning, when will we vote? What’ll we do if it’s a long line — and will our teachers be late to school? (If it’s a long should should we come back later? just wait? Let someone go first if they won’t vote if they have to wait?) What about first time voters who don’t understand what they need to do? Will they need assistance? Will there be dirty tricksters trying to keep them from their designated polling places? Will the rolls be inaccurate? Will names be omitted for new voters?

And on and on and on. The internal soundtrack of worry is a dull roar in my ears. I don’t think I am the only one.

Meanwhile, oh yeah, I am writing a novel. The genre is fantasy. I’ve put down about 6000 words thus far. Despite my earlier starry-eyed glaze over my hero Neil Gaiman, I am no longer discouraged. I’m JUST WRITING. I’m DOING THIS.

If the election goes bad, I’ll immerse myself in the novel. If the election goes well, I’ll celebrate by, um, immersing myself in the novel, too. Actually first I’ll loll about, wondering if somehow the election will get reversed, or challenged, or besmirched. Then I’ll stutter in happy disbelief. A few days will pass and I’ll find myself able to speak again. THEN, I’ll immerse myself into the fantasy world of Calla, Eric, and Madame Bonery.

I’ve been a little reluctant to post a new post after that sweet, sweet letter that D wrote me. I just kept coming back to my blog and re-reading it. I know that I am loved. I will be fine. We’ll get through, it, whatever it may be.

Yet life and its insecurities rage on. I don’t know if it’s safe to write about using illegal drugs on one’s blog, no matter how anonymous it is (and this one’s not all that successful at anonymity!) So I am only going to say this: that if I were to be the sort of gal who enjoys a puff or two of a relaxing kind of smoke from time to time when the kiddos are safely put away on their shelves, then now would be a pretty good time to seek such relaxation.

In fact, D and I are both pretty anxious right now. I hadn’t mentioned this before (probably because of denial, shame, or whatever) but we’re being sued by the lovely city of brotherly love. It’s because apparently our accountant made a mistake on our 2001, or maybe it was our 2002, tax returns. It seems that our city taxes were not filed, or not filed properly.

Since I’m someone whose eyes glaze over and ears seemed stuffed with fluff whenever taxes are discussed, I honestly don’t fully get what happened, or when, or why. I just know that our tax situation requires that a (new) professional accountant deal with it. In order to avoid the $5000 fine and being required to appear at a hearing, the city requires that we file (or re-file, if it was filed) no later than three days before the hearing. If we do, the hearing’s cancelled, the $5000 fine is avoided.

The hearing is August 11. When we’re in upstate NY on vacation. Talking to the accountant’s office today, he said they’d get right to it and work on our taxes. Um… please hurry the fuck up, ok? I mentioned to the clerk I spoke with that there’s this little $5000 fine we’re trying to avoid, and the little lawsuit we’re trying to have dropped… and the best he could say is that they’re going to get started on it right away.

Anxiety much? Now you can understand why I might just be interested in something that might take the edge off. Ease the freak-out a little.

I am also anxious about packing for our vacation (remember my little problem with packing for a ONE NIGHT STAY recently? Well how’s about a two week trip to the middle of nowhere NY where you have to drive 30 miles to get anywhere civilized?) I am perhaps equally anxious about preparing for next year and working as the after school teacher at this wonderful little school. It’s like being pregnant in a way. You get to this point where you suddenly remember OH SHIT! I’M GOING TO GIVE BIRTH! AM I READY FOR THIS?

The fact is I am NOT ready. I am far from ready. I also am not feeling ready for the simple daily life functions of getting my kids up daily, dressed, fed and out the door to go to school on time each day. I am not ready to pay my business bills, either. I really need to do much more, or else face serious consequences.

It’s also 11:52 AM and I am not ready to feed my kids their lunch today. I didn’t get them an adequate breakfast, yet, either, though they both ate something.

And here I am just lolling in anxiety to the point where I wonder if it would be a good idea to take part in some kind of relaxing herbal refreshment (what my pals and I sometimes called it when we were teens).

I need to get my shit together. Perhaps the first thing to do is get dressed and go buy some food. I’ll need some snacks later on if I go with the whole herbal refreshment plan, anyway.

The whole middle of my body, from somewhere near my ribs down to my belly button feels like its filled with some kind of heavy, dangerous substance. I have to hold myself steady to keep it from tipping out of my in some way. My hair is screwed onto my head. My arms are clenched and ready. My eyes are weary but wary. My heart feels like it is doing a loop-dee-lou, racing around, while I wonder if I should sit or stand, walk or lay down, write this blog post or make a list of things to do.

Anxiety.

I am anxious about the camp I’m supposed to teach in just a few short days. I am not prepared at all. I don’t have the materials for it yet. I don’t have the snacks. I don’t even have all the activities planned. In fact, a lot of people who’d expressed interest in going to camp are now saying their kid won’t come. So I don’t even know if this is going to work for the school, as in financially. Which was a condition of offering the damn camp in the first place.

I have to confess I really don’t think I want to do this. I am really afraid of failing. I’m afraid it will go badly, and then I could really not get the job for next year.

The Personnel Committee has still not met with me to discuss anything about next year; the staff didn’t say peep, either. So day to day (and this is the last week of school: TWO days left of me teaching after school), I am unsure about my future. Will I have this job in the fall? Are they waiting to see if I do well in the camp program before considering me for the job?

They could just decide to tell me that they aren’t going to re-hire me for next year and that they’re doing a new job search and I need not apply. That’s how unsure I feel. That’s how anxious. Pit of Tension in stomach, lump in throat.

AND YET. And yet, tonight I went to the eighth grade graduation ceremony, which was incredibly sweet. I cried a little for each and every graduate, out of the feelings of love so evident in the comments of the parents, friends and staff. This school really is wonderful in so many ways. It feels more like a church than a school; it’s a community of people who share certain values and work together to raise their kids into beautiful people.

The graduation ceremony left NO ONE out. I even got a rose! I was SO shocked to be appreciated publicly, not just once, but twice! One of the parents took great care to acknowledge the after school teachers (3 of them, including me, who ran the program during her children’s time at the school) and to recognized each by name and to thank each of us for giving her kids a safe and comfortable home after school.

And then there was a part of the ceremony where the graduates gave a rose to each current staff member, even office staff, and spoke a sentence or two about the contributions and efforts of each member. Including me. Yes, including me. I was so touched to be included.

I’d been sitting there, in the back row, with tears streaming down my face, overwhelmed with emotion about all the love these kids are surrounded by. When suddenly I heard my name — and was so surprised. I did NOT see it coming at all. It was clear to me that even though it’s been only a few short weeks, I am making an impact on the lives of kids and their families. To be appreciated publicly? That is such an unusual feeling for me– usually I feel I am on the outside looking in, or else hidden from view. Ignored or overlooked, or generally taken for granted.

In spite of the kindness and the inclusion of today, I also sat there watching the other teachers. I sat alone. They all had each other. They are a group, and I am not really a part. They are full time, while my job is part time. They all have staff meetings together: I can’t go to the meetings most of the time, since I am watching the kids in after school. My personality doesn’t do well with feeling left out — I am just not quite secure enough for that.

Plus, apparently with all the people around, I got distracted and must have left the window open in the room where I teach, because one of the lead teachers kind of scolded me about it just before graduation. The school wasn’t empty when I left it to walk over to the other building where graduation was taking place — and this must have distracted me from doing my usual doors and windows check. Figures that the one day I forget, this particularly strong teacher would notice and take the time and energy at graduation to scold me. It left my stomach feeling, well, like it does now.

I’m filled with dread. Do I get to keep this job or not? It is so hard being left in the dark on this issue, with the ambiguity continuing and continuing. And every day that I work in the job, I’m trying to do a good job but I’m also so nervous. I feel like I’m being watched and judged. And camp is the final exam.

There’s so much going on, I want to scream. There are end-of-year potlocks to prepare for, and when will I do that? I have from 9:30 am tomorrow morning, until about 2 PM when I have to head to work to: prepare for two potlocks, buy supplies for camp, buy snacks for camp, plus take care of the usual things I have to take care of. I am overwhelmed and miserable.

And I don’t even know if I’m wanted for this job for next year!

And I’m working for two weeks from 9 am to 5:30 pm FOR NO ADDITIONAL PAY even though I have NO ACTUAL OBLIGATION TO DO SO. But I feel I was pressured into it: If I didn’t do it, they’d have even more reason to NOT re-hire me for next year. So I am trying to be good, and do it, and do it well, and cope and manage it all.

Pit of tension. Super pit.

They Love Me. They Love Me Not. They Love Me. They Love Me Not. Well, what is it?

I am fine now. TMI area below.

Meanwhile, Carla’s sick with the flu. Boy did I feel dumb when her doctor casually asked if we’d gotten “flu protection this year.” Uh, no. Not that it’s automatically recommended or required for a seven year old, but I am kind of kicking myself (it’s a hobby of mine!) She has already been through the worst of it, though.
I even don’t call the doctor quickly when my kids are sick. I follow pretty strict criteria; their illness has to reach certain levels of either high temperature or one which lasts, or the illness itself has to last a certain length of time and not respond to the first treatments that I offer. It’s not that I’m indifferent, it’s just that I don’t like to drag a sick kid out to the doctor when I think that bedrest, fluids and tylenol will likely do the trick.

I decided last night, however, that three days of fever were plenty and I wanted to specifically rule out strep throat and ear infections and so, off we went today. If there was a way I could be trained to examine ears, and a home strep culture, I would probably be able to decrease our pediatrician visits dramatically.

Now… as for about ME and my LITTLE PROBLEM, I will let you be the decider about whether you want to…

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Weird… Herein lies one of those Too Much Information kind of posts, so I’ll leave it to your discretion as to whether you want to read more……….
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