hi again

I think I'd like to use this blog a bit more since I'm not using LiveJournal anymore and Tumblr doesn't feel as private. I don't know, I say things like this all the time and I create new anonymous blogs on all sorts of websites and then forget about them. So many of my musings scattered pell-mell across the weirdish wild web. Like scribbled-on slips of scrap paper tucked into library books, dropped on the sidewalk, left behind on a diner table for strangers to find. Virtual ephemera. 

I went back to teaching towards the end of 2023. My happiness at the animal shelter didn't last; things became increasingly bleak and traumatic as the owner of the shelter experienced a decline in her already fragile mental health, and the euthanasia rate soared to an unacceptable (and quite evil) height. Going into the job, I wasn't even necessarily opposed to the need for euthanasia. I understood that there are many states of being which are worse than death, and that for many animals it was an almost sacred kindness that we could offer them in the midst of their irremediable suffering. But my boss became so psychotic that she began euthanizing specific animals that staff members had bonded with in order to psychologically torture us. Animals which had nothing wrong with them and could have absolutely found homes. Towards the end, I began hiding new animals in foster homes before she could see them, and telling callers on the phone not to surrender their animals to our shelter because they'd likely be euthanized. I did what I could to make it known that this shelter was no longer a safe place for animals in need. In the nine months I was at the job, I was personally responsible for adopting out over 120 cats. I think of the starfish story when I remember my time at the shelter. I couldn't save them all, but my work made a difference to those individual cats who found homes.

My return to teaching was initially tumultuous. I loathed every minute of it for the first six months or so, but I didn't leave because 1) I needed the money, and I get paid the most I've ever gotten at this job, and 2) I didn't want my resume to continue to reflect my job-hopping tendencies. I needed to stick it out, to find a place I could stay long-term. And things have gotten better. It took a massive, conscious effort on my part to develop a sense of equanimity for things outside my control, as well as to actively attempt to improve the day-to-day workings of our school. I still feel tired all the time. I am still ill more often than not. But I don't let the stress of this work get to me anymore; I don't think about work much when I'm not there. Because at the end of the day, the stakes are so much lower. I don't have to worry about which beloved creature is going to die next. I'm not walking on eggshells to prevent my boss from having a cocaine-fueled outburst at me and then taking out her irrational rage on an innocent animal. There is life. Teaching small children is an ongoing reminder that life is continually renewing itself in profusion despite everything. This is by no means my dream job, but I don't hate it anymore, either.

I turned 30 this month. I don't feel 30 yet, but I'm trying to get to a point where I feel I've earned my age. I still have so much work to do.