Staring At Infinity

I think this is it. This is the moment where I am officially scared shitless at the prospect of all this inevitable change. I don’t want to remain frozen in this space any longer but to look at everything I have to do is so daunting. I want a new job and then going back to school is fucking terrifying. I haven’t even visited a school yet but I am horrified at the prospect of spending more money to improve myself. I have to take one step at a time but I feel every step forward I’m just tripping and falling. Not exactly walking forward, just collapsing sideways and making it look like I moved closer to a goal.

I have been feeling so incredibly anxious and vulnerable. I feel anything can trigger me and I have this dark shadow of shame constantly following me around. This month has been exceptionally trying for me. I don’t know what it is, I just feel I am falling apart because I want to do shit right but I don’t know the right path necessarily.

All I used to want to do was write and I haven’t kept up with it. I could say it’s because inspiration is lacking but that’s no excuse really! If you are meant to do something you will do it no matter what, even if it sucks and you don’t know how to do it. I still want to write and I want to have a job where I create a safe space for others to tell their stories. I want to travel in my spare time, I want it to be that I have time to myself. These are what I need and it’s not going to happen immediately.

I just don’t know how to believe it. I don’t know how to speak it into reality. I look at people who can speak things into existence. Why can’t I?



One of my biggest pet peeves is the “Latina fire” or the “your Latina side came out” bit. Not all Latinas have a temper… or do they? Or is that when people steamroll us, we have a problem? Could be that none of us like to be discriminated against or pushed aside.

Today, I had that feeling when after an Open House at my work; there was free wine and beer. It was expected that we would consume this within the walls of the school (but it’s late and we’re tired) so many people took off or some stuck around for one drink.

Two teachers asked if they could take wine bottles home, they took home three. I wanted to take wine home for my roommates. They always share drinks with me so I wanted to return the favor. I inquire and I get told that I can’t have any… why do two teachers get three bottles and I get none? Is it because I asked politely or is because I am only a teaching assistant? I have no idea, but it sends me in a tizzy. I loudly state that this is discrimination. I am informed I am not allowed because I have consumed a drink within the school, the other teachers didn’t have a drink– they didn’t “have time” so they received three bottles. I have a little tumbler of wine and therefore I am barred for taking a bottle or two home! How logical and fair; not it is not.

My eyes flash, I try to maintain my cool without exploding or yelling. But it’s clear, I’m perturbed and I am offered a few beer bottles in exchange but I decline. The damage is done, I exit with a fellow coworker who is also considered an assistant. She says not to take it personal, it happens often and it’s no use it letting it get to us. That’s exactly it though, it should get it to us because people who deem themselves above us do us wrong and often.

I texted out some frustrations, cooled off a little when I received the “it was interesting to see your fiery Latina side” text. Cue my eye roll. I am not always well composed but my fiery side shouldn’t be attributed to me being Latina. It should be fucking attributed to people being disrespectful and playing favorites. Some people have privileges that I am not afforded. And yes, that pisses me off. I happen to be Latina as well. It’s a coincidence not a cause and effect.

Countdown to summer.


I am literally aching for summer with every fiber of my being. I cannot tell you how desperate I am to go on vacation. I have not gone out of the state or country at all this school year. I cannot bother to show up to work on time, I leave early whenever possible even if it’s “taboo” for me to carry my bags while I escort the students to drop-off. I have mentally checked out for ages now and it’s mostly because I need a vacation. Not time off, not a week where I don’t go to work… a legitimate time away from where I work.

I know I am blessed to have the time off and get paid to do it, but honestly, I get paid peanuts to do a job that requires so much. If I get fired so be it. If I get verbally reprimanded so be it. I need that zen time that starts on June 30th for myself.

I need that warm weather, the goodbyes and a recharge.

I went to the zoo with my family and my boyfriend on the weekend, that small taste of summer was enough. I feel everyone deserves a paid vacation and a lot of us aren’t allowed to have it. I have it and insurance which is lucky, but here’s to holiday where I not only take care of myself but also set a goal of finding a workplace where I am valued and feel fulfilled.

30 days and counting.

What is courage really?

I have been super stressed and exhausted lately. All I want to do is stay at home eating macaroons and hiding under my blanket.

I had high hopes for a new job in the school I currently work with. It was one of those “put all your eggs in one basket” type of deals. I never really understood that metaphor, a lot of American colloquialisms are odd to me. But now I can see how it works because if I just bought a ton of eggs and put them all into a basket then they were smashed against the wall… I would be upset and wish I saved some eggs in the fridge or put them in an omelette to eat.

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What is a dream job anyway?

I have heard about dream jobs a few times these past few weeks. One of them was at this eerie co-op that I applied to become apart of. It was full of vegetarians/vegans who live together in a Hyde Park house, I was informed that “many” people applied to this co-op.  The week before it was so busy with house dinners with all the applicants, they had to squeeze me in the following week “if I was available”. I accepted because I was hoping that it would be less cult-y than their website made it out to be and secondly, I also wanted to see if it was cultish… would they test my breath for meat particles? Yes, I had some bacon before I went to the dinner…

I attended the dinner where I would meet someone named King but she was running late at work. I was not so much greeted at the door as I was looked at as an annoyance. I was passed off to the house member in the kitchen. They take turns cooking dinner, tonight it was this blond woman’s turn… let’s call her Kelly (I don’t remember her name). Kelly was very chipper and I thought ok, perhaps she would be more sociable than this other guy, Barry (ok I forgot his name too, damn it. I remember specifically telling them that the first time I hear someone’s name, I forget it and they did tell me their names TWICE). She asked about what I do for a living. I talked about the school I work at and my classroom of 6-7 year old rapscallions. She was into her vegetables and cursed the fact they ran out of ginger when I asked her what her current job was.

“Right now, I have my dream job!”

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Who I am and Why I am here

I am a week behind my workshop with The Daily Post for newbie bloggers. Oops!

It’s back to basics with this post. The Who Am I? question is so daunting. Who am I really? I am a lot of things. Who I am consists of a teacher, a writer, a painter, a craft maker, to name a few. I think about the song “Who Am I?” from Les Misérables that the character Jean Valjean sings. I am a human being. I’m me. I make mistakes, I am trying to learn from them. I’m messy, I’m passionate, and I’m stubborn as hell. I love who I am but I am not some unchanging force. I’m constantly evolving. I love challenging my self-concept. Who am I? I am a 26 year old woman writing about her life because sometimes I feel like the only one who feels anxious, flighty, childish and hyper for the next adventure… but I’m not the only one. That gives me so much solace because yes, it’s great to be unique. But I need community. I’m an extroverted introvert. I’m that person in the room who is all over the place. I learned to love that, sometimes I don’t like it but hey. That’s ok.

As for why I am here. I am doing my best to write more consistently. I’ve always wanted to write something official, this feels as official as I can get. I could write in a journal which I do. But talking to myself is so much easier than putting out there for the world to see. I wanted to take a risk and I want to reach out to be apart of this writing community. I’m here to share my stories and to read your stories, it’s like a giant sleepover but this time I don’t have to worry about forgetting my toothbrush. So stay awhile because we have a lot to talk about.

That happened.

Last week, we had a meeting with our new headmistress at our school. She is an upfront, very earnest woman from what I saw so far.

She had many inquiries for us staff. Boy, did I have answers for these questions. I discussed the pros of the role I have at the school and what goes well at the school. The team is very supportive and laidback. Whenever someone needs a favor, if we can provide we do. There are many jobs where I have seen people look out for themselves. Here, it’s very much “we’re going through this” together dynamic. I don’t know my coworkers particularly well because I personally do not have much time to get that one-on-one time. Plus, I have some serious boundaries that can both help and hinder my social skills.

As for changes, there were many I thought could be made especially for those who share my role as a learning assistant. Most of all, I came to the conclusion that no matter how many changes were made… I do not want to be a learning assistant anymore.

I do not want to be a teacher. It’s not because I do not value teachers or the work that is done… My dream job isn’t to have my classroom and stay there for years to come. I cringe at the idea of staying in the same place for too long and to have to follow these set out topics each month or term. It’s not my cup of tea. I also don’t want to run eternal errands for others, I enjoy helping someone out but doing the little jobs no one cares to do… It’s hard to say no when you’re at the bottom of the social ladder. Additionally, I like talking to the children more so than getting them to whatever level they’re supposed to get to in their reading, mathematics, etc. My gift isn’t the getting them to understand multiplication or adjectives. I prefer the emotional/social aspect.

So what do I want to do and why am I in education?

I thought I would have it all figured out by now. Whenever I feel like I’ve had enough and that no one appreciates me, it’s the children that keep me going. But I know eventually, they’ll move on and I have this opportunity to tell the headmistress, “hey! I’ve got more in me than cutting out menorah shapes and asking children critical questions about their reading books!” The problem lies in when do I want to do? What can I do in a school?!

Here’s what I want to do: Write. I just love writing and stories. That’s what I’m about. How to turn that into a job at this school is the question I’m tackling. We have a director of communications and assisting her sounds more of my jam what with the social media and writing up blogs. The only issue: sitting at a desk the whole time. I’m not a good sitting at the desk for long periods of time person. What if I can combine the communication part with visiting other schools and boom, brand new job where I get to travel a bit and write about it?! In an ideal world, this could be a thing.

If it’s not going to be a thing… I can try and try again till I find that thing.

I keep going back and forth in my head, was being that honest the best idea? Am I going to get a slip or email saying “dude pack your bags, we can’t have someone who doesn’t want to do as we say around here.”

For now, I listen to some holiday tunes, lay here with my Finding Nemo blanket and mouth guard on dreaming of that thing that’ll have me waking up in the morning fulfilled.