July 25, 2006

3 days...

So why the countdown? Why all the drama, the suspense, the eager anticipation? Just what are we waiting for?!?!? I'm quitting my job, that's what. Retiring? No, I'm not that old. Got a better offer? Nope, nobody wants me. Win the Lotto? Do you think if I was suddenly $98,000,000 richer I would be whining and bitching about being useless and incompetent? I'd pay someone to write how much money I was spending, with hourly updates.

But I am quitting, in a matter of hours I will be unemployed, because I want to be a teacher.

I know, teachers don't get paid a lot. ...But they get summer vacations.

It's a thankless job, no one appreciates teachers. ...They have 2 weeks off at Christmas.

Teachers teach kids, and kids are loud, silly, rude, loud, smelly, snotty, loud, goofy and loud. ...But there's no class on the weekends, or holidays, or special classes that last until midnight throughout the month of December. And there are no coupons!!!!

TMW&BWITW* and I have talked about this for years, especially when she came home from "work" one day and said for the one millionth time how she really loved her job. After 500,000 times I had gotten the point, at #732,006 I used the classic retort "so why don't you marry it?", and after #872,340 I threw my hands in the air and gave in: if she was going to love her job then I wanted to love my job too.

I did try. But I did the math: working 5 days a week x 48 weeks a year x 25 more years until I can retire = over 600,000 shirts to fold! Yes, there are certain things I would like to do 600,000 times in the next two decades of my life, especially if I'm getting paid for it, but I'm not sure how we would explain it to our tax guy. But I just don't love folding shirts, and it was affecting the quality of my laundry skills at home. The basket of clean clothes would sit there, day after day, waiting patiently for me to sort and fold and stack, but it was getting harder and harder for me to apply myself to the task. The cat didn't mind, he had a nice soft place to lounge, but the boys were getting teased at school for their wrinkled, fur-covered tees and shorts.

So I need a job I can love. And hopefully a job that will love me back.


TMW&BWITW = The most Wonderful and Beautiful Wife in the World, of course.

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