I’m not exactly sure that’s how you spell “simmering.” I suppose it’s right, because Firefox didn’t underline it in red when I just typed it. Nice to know I’m still somewhat competent at something, even if it is remembering which words have double letters in them when you add -ing and which do not.
It’s good to have something.
I’m angry today. I’ve been angry all week, actually, which isn’t at all the way I like to roll, but the anger is a change from the sadness and the general anxiety over how my life is headed in the complete wrong direction. The anger started on Monday, when my mentor teacher told me I was being disrespectful, but after making me feel like crap and then leaving for all of 3rd block so she couldn’t tell I fixed/adjusted any of the teaching things she told me I was sucking at, she came back and became my bestest friend in the whole wide world. We chit-chatted for forever, about my RA and having children and weird things that your body does when you’re pregnant. Inconsistency makes me angry. Had she come back and apologized for making me feel like crap, said she was having a bad day or whatnot, then the friendliness wouldn’t have been so, well, angering. If she had come back, still acting pissed at me, and remained pissed for the rest of day, that also would have been acceptable. At least be consistent. Anyway, I got home and thought over the whole thing, which made me angry again. I probably said mean things to the Goat on the phone when I talked to him. I know I was yelling. All of the sadness and anxiety and upset turned into anger. I yelled about being a bad mummy to the dog and about being so fat I almost couldn’t leave the apartment in the morning and about hating my internship and not wanting to be a teacher and not having the guts to just walk away. He was trying to listen, to be supportive, but he really can’t. Well, he can, but it isn’t going to help. We haven’t been dating long enough for him to say “You can get through this” or “You can walk away if you want, I’ll support that decision,” because he’s never been through a really rough patch like this with me. He doesn’t know my default is to say I’m going to give up and then never really do anything about it, but he also doesn’t know that this situation is extremely different from all the other times I’ve said I was quitting and never did. I feel wrong depending on him or asking him to do things, because we aren’t married/living together/been together very long at all, and there are things I’ve asked him to do that he hasn’t done. It isn’t that he’s not dependable, it’s just that he’s got his own life. He’d argue this with me (probably will, actually), but I think that subconsciously he’s struggling with the amount I’m asking him (literally and figuratively) to deal with.
Anyway.
Yesterday I was angry that I was at high school until quarter to six, and angry I was hungry and stopped at Sonic on the way home. I’m terribly upset with myself that I haven’t been taking care of the puppy, so when I get home and she’s climbing on me and she wants me to play with her and pet her I just have this tremendous guilt.
Today I’m angry because I went to the education job fair at the institution of my choice, only to find there really aren’t any jobs for me in this area. There are probably jobs for me in this state, but they aren’t within commuting distance of Goat. I’m all tangled up inside over this whole thing anyway, and it’s difficult to realize either I might not have a job in the fall or I won’t have a boyfriend. People at the job fair, representatives from schools I suppose I want a job at (not that I really want a job teaching high school), glanced at my resume, saw that I’m coming to the table with the second highest starting rank on the pay scale (master’s plus 30), and quickly tossed my resume aside. I got no interviews, I got no one who seemed remotely interested in me, and I got a bad taste in my mouth for job fairs. Apparently many of the schools are having their own job fairs, so they were happy to say “Our job fair is on [insert date here]. You’ll need to come to it,” and place the resume they’ve been handed in the huge stack of resumes they’ve already been handed. I assume there was a lot of recycling going on this afternoon when those representatives got back home.
I’m so angry, in fact, I need to write a letter.
