The Grind

When school started back a week and a half ago, I cried every single morning when my alarm went off.  Today is the first day I haven't cried.  That seems like a problem. Maybe a new job?  Oh wait:  I can't quit my job, because then I get systematically fucked by THE MAN, because I haven't worked for 85 years doing my job, thus my current retirement fund might keep me alive for a year. 

Here's the unfortunate truth:  I fucking hate going to my job.  This is not good.  I used to love my job, even though sometimes it's frustrating.  I loved teaching, I loved the challenge, and I loved sharing my love of language and literature.  Now ... well, I actively hate myself for signing a contract to go back to that building.  I just hate myself in general, actually.  I hate the people who run the school.  I hate the kids who refuse to engage because they think school is a waste of their time.  I hate that those students destroy my passion for the ideas/writing that I'm passionate about.  I hate that the word that first comes to my mind about education is "hate". 

I honestly don't think I'm going to make it through this school year.  I don't even think I'll make it through next week.  I'll either have a massive heart attack and die, or I'll purposely swerve into oncoming traffic in front of a semi just so I don't have to do this job anymore. 

I'm fucking sad all the time because I can't stand being in high school anymore.  I went to high school.  I graduated.  I went to college.  I graduated.  (thrice) . I have now taught in high school for 21 years.  I am ready to graduate.  Immediately.  I would like to never see the inside of a high school again.  Starting today. 

I truly think all the negative feelings I have about my job and myself are slowly killing me.  I don't even like or respect myself anymore, so how could anyone else? 

All I want to do is be a writer, live on my own terms and my own schedule, and not feel the compulsion to drink myself to death.  But I don't write, because when I do, this is what happens.  I puke out a bunch of shitty feeling words about how disappointed I am with my life.  Fucking pathetic. 

I would end this rant by saying that tomorrow will be a better day, but based on the trajectory of my current life, tomorrow will be the same Groundhog Day-style nightmare that every other day is.  Thank god for my best friend, who happens to be a 17-year-old, otherwise I'd disappear.