Things About Weekends Right Now

Hi guys. It's me. I am at work. One of them. Today I am substituting for the Special Ed teacher, which is kind of like my home away from home, and also my favorite place to substitute in the whole school, because, well, it's easy. The only reason it is easy is because I don't have to do the SPED teacher's actual paperwork. Otherwise I would probably kill myself, or run away screaming. Or both. I feel for you, Bethany. But anyway, my  schedule this weekend looks like this (it would be much more impactful on a spreadsheet, but we all know that my relationship with spreadsheets is a little tremulous):

Friday 

Substitute @ school: 8 AM- 3 PM

Interview in Colville, 37 minutes away: 2:30-3 PM

Waitress @ Mustang: 2:30 PM- 8:30 PM

Help on Ambulance @ Football Game: 6 - 9 PM

Saturday

Waitress @ Mustang: 7:15 AM - 11 AM

Aspen's out of town Basketball game: 12 PM- 4 PM ish

Waitress @ Mustang: 2:30 PM- 8:30 PM

Chaperone Overnight Bonfire Party 20 minutes out of town : 6 PM Sat - 11 AM Sunday

Sunday

Drive Kiz back to work: 7:15 AM

Go home and die (<------ this part is my favorite. I am already planning which sweatpants I will wear)

See how that works out? Yeah, not at all. So, working backwards, the process of elimination. First off the list: what doesn't pay? Oh, yeah, volunteering at the football game. It's fun, I really like it, and since I didn't get fired yesterday during our drill, I am still one of the only two people in town that can  (or will) do it. But that one has to go.

The interview, while it doesn't pay, per se, it has POTENTIAL for eventual payoff, so it has to stay, which means some artful negotiation with BOTH of my bosses to cover that 2/3 hours where I am supposed to be working two jobs. That done successfully, I have just enough time to dash into town, wow the interviewers, pick up two chubs of hamburger for meatloaf dinner Saturday, and make it back in time for the club meeting that is encroaching on our Prime Rib dinner at the Grill.

Then, Aspen's basketball game, obviously doesn't pay, other than the emotional pride-swelling that is customary when watching your 11 year old make her first lay up. Or lay in. Or lay over. Or whatever they do in basketball. Maybe a slam dunk? But either way, it has to go.

Next, the chaperoning. Now, even though I have Children That I Cannot Trust (you know who you are) and as a result don't wish the chaperoning of them on any other adult, again, this is a non-paying and somewhat non-rewarding job, so it will be eliminated except for the hours I am not working, which are the same hours when I should be sleeping. Perhaps this is where I will exert the tremendous influence I have over the high school kids as a substitute teacher and they will all follow me joyfully to an early bedtime. (If you can't hear the sarcasm dripping off of that entire sentence, then it's a good bet that my whole blog is lost on you.)

Pretty much any waitressing hours I can get have to stay, cause they're the money right now. And the teaching stuff too. The teaching stuff is nice because A) it pays a little more hourly, B) I can sit down, C) I can drink coffee slowly out of a big mug, and D) I have time to do this blog unless the principle catches me online. The waitressing stuff is fun because A) my Fitbit One (1) says I can have pie then, B) If I am nice I make more money (sometimes),  C) I can drink coffee out of a small cup quickly, and D) I can usually sneak in a killer bacon/blue cheese/pineapple hamburger patty sometime during my shift.

Really the priorities are fairly cut and dry. I am a little fuzzy on where I am going to fit in sleeping, showering, parenting and Feeling Sorry For Myself, but I am sure it will work out somehow. It always does. Next weekend is shaping up very  similarly, and I feel emotionally prepared. Because, kind of like fire season, you work when there's work. And at any given moment, there could be no work. And somebody has to pay the $25 a month cable bill. At least I don't have to wear Nomex.

Things About Rainy Days

It's pouring. Raining hard. The power was out for 45 minutes, which I slept through, but when it came back on, my iPod lept mysteriously to life and started a random playlist that may be the only bright spot in this day.

A quick phone call told me that the divorce is filed. Three months from now and it will all be over. As if it never happened. Except it did. But it's done. Divorce sucks. It just shouldn't be. It's unnatural, legally tearing yourself away from someone you loved. The rain seems appropriate.

This afternoon we have an EMS drill, a fake car wreck at the highschool with a bunch of different agencies responding. We (Northport First Response) have to look our best and perform at our best. I am not feeling it. The rain. The divorce. All of it. I might be the crabby responder out there telling the fake patients to suck it up. I hope I don't get fired.

Anyway. It's a rainy day, inside and out. And tomorrow will be better. And the playlist helps. But some days are just rainy like that. We have to stand in the rain to appreciate the sunshine.