work

I want.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I want to write so many posts, but I never seem to get the motivation at the right time.

I want to write about how I’m trying to rid my life of the negativity I can control and live more gratefully and gracefully.

I want to write about how I am about to start a new teaching year and I don’t even know if I want to be a teacher anymore.

I want to write about how I am trying to change my parenting style and my relationship with my kids and not get to frazzled and controlling all the time.’

I want to write about how I gave up on the marathon, and the half marathon, and I’m sincerely, trying so hard not to give up on myself.

I want to write all of this and more. But I sit down to write and feel like a fake. And like I have no idea what I am talking about.

But I wrote this and that’s a start.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll pick more and go with it.

I want to.

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Self Absorption at it’s Finest

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“I’m selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I’m out of control, and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” ~Marilyn Monroe

As you may have read before, I gave up Facebook…for a day.  I deleted my account last night and I’ll be reactivating it tonight…but not for reasons you might think.  I thought I was getting too obsessed with Facebook; checking it all the time, always posting, wasting time that I could have been doing other things. I figured that without it I would barely pick up my phone.  Instead you know what happened?  I checked Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and my email all day.  I have an app that tracks phone usage and I used it the same amount of time as I had been…without Facebook.

What I realized (besides the fact that I’m addicted to my phone itself and probably should do something about it) is that I’m completely self-absorbed and I do have my tiny Facebook break to thank for that a little bit.  Because of this all the time I spend on my phone, you’d think I’d be the most awesome friend ever, always knowing what is going on in the lives of others.  Engaging, relating, conversing. The reality is less than admirable.

I simply use the damn social medial tools to tell everyone all about me.  I over post assuming that everyone wants to hear all the random crap I have to say.  I over scroll because I can’t seem to be left out of anything and need to know what everyone else it do (and even more embarrassingly, why I’m not included).

In a nutshell, it’s all about me.  I’m as self-absorbed as they come.  And it’s downright shameful.

A while ago I lost a friend.  There’s an amazingly long and heartbreaking story behind the whole ordeal that I won’t bore you with now, but essentially we were friends and now we’re not.  I have spent a large amount of time fixated on this friendship wondering what I did to get to this place, wondering what I could do to make it better.  Me, me, me, I, I, I.  During this time other friendships have come and gone and I’ve barely noticed.  How crappy is that?  People sent messages, tried to make plans, were legitimately interested in the goings on in my life.  And yet, here I was making all kinds of effort for someone who basically didn’t give a shit about me.

Which basically equates to me being a giant tool.

I know I tend to push people away.  Yet, I don’t think this is necessarily about that.  I just know I need to be a better friend to the ones I have. And while Facebook is good for the superficial aspect, I need to do a better job of being a friend in “real life”.   I need to engage, work, try, and make an effort.

If not, I may not have anyone left.

Remember when we were friends…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.” ~Jane Austen

Shockingly enough this is not a post about being a mother.  Nor is it a post about running or some form of transformation I hope to create for myself.  This is, in simplest terms, a post about friendship.  I’m not quite sure where in my sub-conscious it formed, but I know it’s a story I need to tell.

Earlier today I received a text from a friend saying she saw a certain friend of mine having lunch with someone else I knew.  It was semi-shocking news knowing these two people have a tumultuous history, but nothing completely out of the ordinary.  What struck me most was the fact that for awhile, this friend and I had been rather close, inseparable even, and now it hard to remember when I last talked to or even saw this person (actually, it was December 2013, so about a year and a half ago).  While the “conversation” didn’t really make me miss this particular  friendship per se, it did get me thinking about the idea of friendship in general.  In the most juvenile terms it really had me thinking “what happens when you’re not friends with your friends anymore?”

Last August I wrote this post about friendship.  I talked about how amazing my friends were at helping me through a really tough summer after my dad died.  And yet, out of the four people I named in that post, I haven’t seen two of them since last July, and one of them, I haven’t even “talked” to except maybe once or twice via text.  That’s not to say that I don’t think about these people or wonder about them or even miss them, but it’s just interesting how one minute someone can be one of the most important people in your life and the next minute you have trouble remembering the last time you had a meaningful experience with them.

I can literally name maybe five people that I am legitimately friends with at this moment, but in full disclosure, I tend to just have a few close friends instead of a large amount of acquaintances anyway.  I think in the era of the “Facebook Connection” we tend to think we have more friends than we do.  We think that all these social media platforms are helping us, but rather they are actually harming us and our friendships.  We, as a society (me very much included)  don’t feel the need to reach out and keep a tangible connection to the people in our lives because people are “right there” with the touch of a button.  These quick connections take all the effort out of maintaining a friendship and friendships, like any relationship requires work.  We post posts or like photos with the feeling that we are keeping some form of connection going when, really, are we?

And what happens when someone, a friend, doesn’t like out photo or our post?  Half the time we run through the following thoughts and questions: Are they mad at us?  Are they being petty or jealous?  Do they agree with me and my opinion? Or maybe, the thought that never occurs to us, maybe they don’t spend every minute on social medial and didn’t see the actual post.

I realize I went off on a little bit of  a tangent and with all my post-pregnancy brain-ness I don’t really know where this was going in the first place.  But I think what I’ve gotten out of it is that I need a break.  A break from all the wondering.  A break from trying to figure out people or even figure out where I stand.  A break from feeling like I’m losing something that wasn’t ever really mine in the first place.  A break from the second guessing of certain friendships and relationships when I have a house of people right here to focus on.

Because you can’t fight for everyone, especially those people who don’t want to stay in the first place.

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What the hell am I doing?

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Bottom line is, even if you see ’em coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can’t help that. It’s what you do afterwards that counts. That’s when you find out who you are.” ~Joss Whedon

I had my formal observation at school today.  Normally I am nervous and fret about it for days on end.  I can’t sleep the night before, I stay late in my classroom every night cleaning and getting ready, I spend hours writing my lesson plan.  Not this time.  I spent maybe 20 minutes on my lesson plan, stayed maybe an hour later the night before cleaning up and slept like drunk (though I was not) last night.

You might think it was because in the four years I have been working in public schools I have learned a lot, gained more confidence, and understand the value of growing as a teacher.  You might think it is because I have a complete understanding of my students and their needs, and what I, as their teacher, need to do to meet those needs.  You might even think that I’m simply amazing at my job so there was never a need to worry in the first place.

None of this is true.  Not one bit of it.

The fact of the matter is I simply don’t care.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I am pretty good at my job.  My children learn.  Everyone is alive at the end of the day.  I still continue to go above and beyond what is expected of me.  But really, I think it’s because those things are ingrained in me.  I have a strong work ethic.  I will never just quit and walk away when other people are counting on me, nor will I simply not do what I am getting paid to do.  But I just don’t care anymore.  I don’t really like teaching.

I was at an Arts Everyday meeting with a friend the other day (on my own time, not getting paid) and we were listening to this person behind us who was obviously new, or at least relatively new, to teaching.  He was going on and on about all these programs he wanted to start, how he’s in it for the kids, basically that this job and the children in his class are his reason for getting up every morning; his reason for living.  All I could think was that this is a clear sign that I shouldn’t be doing this job anymore.  None of these things applied to me.  Yes, I used to be that idealistic and love my job and love my kids.  Pretty much as recently as last year I knew (thought) that this is what I was meant to be doing and I couldn’t see myself doing anything else ever.

But things have changed.  Something in me has changed.

I don’t like waking up every morning spending my day with this eager little people.  In fact, most days I loathe it.  I hate the fact that I spend more time with (and on) these children than I do my own.  I hate the fact that my children get the brunt of my bad days because I’ve listened to whining and tattling all day so when I get home I literally explode when my own children do it.  I’m upset over the fact that I used to have so much idealism, used to believe I could “be the change you wish to see in the world” and now I’m just happy if I make it through the day without having to call a parent and pray none of them text me for some insane reason.

But mostly, I simply hate the fact that I don’t care.  I wish I liked my job.  But not liking it has lead to not caring and really, it’s not fair.  It’s not fair to me because I am miserable.  It’s not fair to the people around me who I make miserable because they have to deal with me being miserable.  It’s not fair to the kids who really, for the most part, didn’t do anything wrong.  It’s not fair to the teachers who don’t have a job, because I’m selfishly taking this one and I don’t even want it.

So, really, what does all this mean?  I means I need to look for a new job.  I mean really and truly look for a new job.  No more thinking I’m going to and then getting lazy because I make pretty good money and have great benefits.  Frankly, it’s not worth it anymore.  I have to stop sacrificing my happiness.  Ever since the end of last year, ever since the summer, I feel like I have been simply going through the motions, not being completely here or there.  It’s like I’ve been holding on to something I shouldn’t have, been waiting for someone or something else to come along and make this decision or change for me. And I have to stop.  I have to let go.  I have to move on from whatever it is.

I have to grow up, put on my big girl panties, and make some real choices.