For some, writing rage/rant blogs works to preserve their sanity. Having some keys to mash on helps them deal with the pains of _____. Doing so is cathartic. For me, I’ve found that raging just means I have to love through the pain once more. It’s not cathartic, it’s torturous.
But I suppose this needs telling…
I wrote “The Chattering Vortex of Apathy” a year ago and posted it 9 months ago. Things got worse…just after I made that post, in fact. A Bible-thumping main coteacher made a powerplay and forced me to transfer schools, so I moved and got thrown in with three coteachers who were just out of college. Two were okay, but the other one only communicated via Post-Its with me. Our desks were next to each other and she was my main coteacher. Frustration ensued. Most of what I said about classes “not being interesting” came true.
left in February. Mid-contract. Couldn’t bear the mental strain anymore. Lady Buckeye and I had split up in October (amicably) and that combined with the idiocy of Korean schools had me thinking my time was finished in the country. Just getting through the day was difficult enough. I was wrecked.
The fresh air
My vice principal keeps an open door policy, and not just the figurative idea of always being available: His office door is literally open all the time. This would make no matter if his office wasn’t part of the larger 교무실 (teachers office), but it does because his open door does us no favors during the winter. All the combined hot air of the teachers room’s three overhead heaters goes to waste thanks to his negligently leaving the door open all day, thereby letting the frigid winter air waft its way into the room and keep us all in a state of refrigeration. As Korean schools don’t usually have central heating and Koreans usually keep the outside doors of the schools open (at least in the country) for “airflow,” the schools are basically cold all the frakkin’ time. One of the outside doors sits not 20 feet from the VP’s door. Whether he likes to keep us cold and waste heat or he just doesn’t care is yet to be determined.
The slamming doors
Holy Moses Malone do my high school students delight in slamming doors as harshly as possible. The doors clang and slam at double intervals every hour: Once to signal the end of one class and once more to signal the end of the 10 minute passing time and the beginning of another class. Much of the time, they make as much noise as possible so they can squeeze all the drama they can from their over scheduled lives. Those 10 minutes between classes provide endless delights for the petty and dramatic as well as recurring assaults on the ears of yours truly. How the doors stay intact is a miracle of engineering. Why nobody’s told them to frakkin’ stop it already, well, who knows.
Oh well. I’ll have a respite from this nonsense soon enough, for Lady Buckeye and I will be flying out to Vietnam come the morrow. Rock on and stay tuned for more.