Wednesday, February 17, 2016


As is to be expected, work continues. Yesterday saw me read a novel and begin its write-up; I will continue to work on it today once my teaching day is done. Yesterday also saw me give my usual tutorial, which went well; I will be drafting a short homework assignment and a couple of oral reading passages for the tutee, both per the tutee's request. And the regular work of what I do in and for the classroom will need doing, as well. If I am to continue to make such reports as can be found here, I have some writing to do, and some attention-paying so as to have something about which to write. But nothing about any of the above is a surprise; I know that I will be busy, always.

I know that it will read as if I am bemoaning my lot; I can certainly understand how such an impression might come to be. And I do complain about it at points--but, as I have noted once or twice, the complaints that many others have about their jobs are accepted as perhaps annoying but not without justification. I am not looking to leave the profession at this point; I am, in fact, taking substantial measures to remain within it, as the dozens of job applications I have sent out in 2016 so far attest. I am frustrated that my efforts seem to result in so little, certainly, and that my situation is such that I cannot afford to plan for the long term due to the demands of the short. The furthest forward I can see is the eventual payoff of several loans I have outstanding; maybe by then, I can start thinking about saving for a retirement that is likely never to come. But that is doubtful, as is the idea that I will ever be able to stop working. (And, honestly, I more or less expect to die on the job. It would be better than dying in bed next to my wife; imagine that wake-up call.)

Before the notes come in that I should stop complaining and try to do more--tell me what the hell that "more" is. I already send out more job applications in a month than many have done in their whole lives. I already work seven days a week most weeks, including most holidays, and well over eight hours in each of them. I am already working three different jobs (one full-time, one part-time, and freelancing). What can I do with the twenty minutes I take to write in this webspace most mornings, during which I drink my first cup of coffee (because I do not suffice to the tasks on my own, as I have noted), that would actually help matters? Unless such answers are forthcoming, unless there is some kind of help available--quit complaining and go do something useful.

Why should you be held to a lesser standard than you seek to impose upon me?

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