There are motherf***in snakes on my motherf***in blog


Dear readers, I’m so sorry I left you through a tremendous dry spell. Like so many things in life, I needed to work a few things out. Mine was a life crisis I have hinted at for so long on this blog and one I’m sure more than a few 30 year olds share. Luckily my good pal Zach Braff is making a movie that addresses the crushing blow that is 30, so I’ll pass on elaborating my tales of that crisis between quarter-life and mid that no one has coined a phrase for yet. I’m sure said crisis will translate well to film and will probably have a Shins song or two for good measure. So someone else has that department of sad bastardom all wrapped up.

As for me, well I had to pursue other avenues. I’ve spent years saying how awesome it would be if I could get back into the school system. For those of you who don’t know, I was once an English teacher. Then on some random Tuesday our country was attacked by terrorist and my principal in his infinite wisdom did my first classroom observation that morning. The next day he fired me.

After 5 years I thought I was over that. I guess I really wasn’t, because the minute I hit the cement bunker known as public school again, I found myself filled with a lot of anxiety. I’ll pass on the details of how I was told my job entailed one thing and in actuality was quite another. I’ll skip the part about how getting anything done required 7 forms and 5 departments that each had 14 different protocols on how they wanted the simplest task completed. I’ll also glance over the part where the principal that hired me was given a fate worse than termination the week I started. He was moved to county. Which I also quickly learned is about the equivalent of dropping your old dog off at the pound. You probably don’t want to own him anymore, so maybe he’ll get adopted, but chances are eventually he’ll be “put down.” Either way, you’ll never know.

Over and above it all, I got some hint as to how the “system” has dropped the ball all around. I was told to gather up old Apples from teacher’s rooms day 1. From the notes they left behind, I determined they hated PCs, losing their beloved old machines and in all likelihood hated me sight unseen. From there the plot thickened, because the guy I replaced, was actually not fired, but instead found the school listed his job online for suckers like me to apply for. They were nice enough to let him stay on at the school as a teacher.

So, to recap, I had old old computers that I had to build graphics labs with, a group of teachers who saw me as a threat to their status quo before I even got there, a new administration that had no loyalty to the new guy someone else hired and last but not least, I was going to be held accountable fro anything with a power plug and I had absolutely zero notation from the prior guy because he was fired in the most backwards manner imaginable to man. Yet, I'd have the pleasure of seeing him daily, but could expect no guidance or help from him. I guess not much had changed in the 5 years since the same county fired a first year teacher for not being able to teach kids FCAT material while the Twin Towers fell.

We have this old saying in Texas. Fool me once, shame on you…

So I made some really delicious lemonade from a batch of rotten lemons and one day in a rare quiet moment, I realized that this triumphant return was anything but how I imagined it. Ultimately, it also wasn’t what I wanted. So after 2 months of dreading every new sunrise, I gave my notice. Like my prior experience, I met some wonderful teachers and had some great experiences I wouldn’t trade this time for the world. When it was said and done and loaded with Apple OSX, I realized whipping up delicious lemonade might be something I’m good at, but it isn’t necessarily something that is good for me.

I was in a jam band.

Mostly we did raspberry.


Hey y’all as my kinfolk like to say. Another week wraps up and I’m decidedly one foot out of the door. I hope to blog a lot more in the weeks to come. It is definitely something I miss. I’ve also determined that as much as I dislike people, I want to be a counselor. Funny huh? Well when the masses jam up traffic and crowd the malls, I loath them. Individually though, most of us are decent and try to do what I best. Most of us that is. I have a direction and that is a start.

My new endeavor has the cadence of an ER doctor’s job. It is go…go…go.

I tend to live life at a turtle’s pace. Usually heavy on introversion and perceptive of the future while reflecting on the past. My days are now spent rushing from one disaster to another. If I felt I was serving some higher calling, like saving lives or putting out literal fire, then it might seem worth it. The only fires I put out are proverbial ones. My days are spent drowning in bureaucracy with little time for reflection. In a way, every job is prostitution. You sell yourself for money doing something you hate. Eventually you have to become numb to it. It just seems like we shouldn’t all be stuck in this rut. I’m sure I’m not alone.

So what options do you have? I could take my old job back. Lord knows they’ve tried. That would return me to a place that allows for some peace and reflection peppered into my day. It also means I’m going back to a place I was happy to leave behind. I think at the end of the day, a job is a job is a job. I might get another masters degree or completely change my course of action. Yet no matter what, at the end of the day we all sell a little bit of our soul to feed our addiction to electricity and warm food.

Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone?


Thus ends my exile. I’ve been avoiding blogging, because I don’t want to offend anyone at my new job. If you know me, you know I went to the school system. Unlike the liberal bastion most folks probably see the public school system as, where I now work is a haven for judgmental politics. So I’ve been practicing the golden rule. Cover your ass. So far so good. One of the many sacrifices I made was free and unencumbered blogging. What value is a censored blog anyway? None I say.

So I’m throwing caution to the wind. Not being able to blog has honestly caused me to hold so much in. I feel most days as if I am about to burst. My frustration with the new job and the politics and bureaucracy that have come with it make me miserable. I’ve gotten pretty good at training my brain not to think about it. A work though pops up and I squelch the fire within.

At night, it is a different story. The stress has been haunting my dreams and making me miserable in a way only my girlfriend sees and understands, because she witnesses the daily toll this place is taking on me. I use to have a fix it and forget it work life. One in which I could do my 8 and hit the gate. Now I have to monitor everything I write, say and damn near think. I’m done with it. I’ve decided if in fact I will have my thoughts held against me, then this is no place I wish to remain.

Come Armageddon, come.