Pass the Xanax

I’ve started the new job, and great news! I’ve only had ONE panicked stress cry! Admittedly, it involved an actual anxiety attack and took two hours and some xanax to calm down, but HEY! And the fact I’ve be proactively taking the xanax everyday has NOTHING to do with it, I’m sure.

Instead of doing anything useful at home, like dishes or laundry, I hang out with the kid while he watches his way through the entire Power Rangers collection on Netflix, and I read Teen Wolf fanfic.

Yes, the MTV show. Yes, about werewolves. Who are very frequently shirtless.

Now, this probably would make MORE sense if I had actually seen a single episode of Teen Wolf, but I haven’t. I just needed something (ANYTHING) as a distraction, and this seemed to work. Regardless of logic.

Also going on is Brandus insistence that I start taking any kind of classes in anything that interests me, probably going with the vain hope that one day I will no longer have to teach and can support us by doing something else. Underwater Basketweaving, it is! Unless they teach classes in living in yurts and raising llamas, I mean.

Fuck teaching, man. Seriously.

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4 Responses to Pass the Xanax

  1. RobMonroe says:

    Go for the yurt and llama option, always!

  2. Louise says:

    It is so hard. It is so hard. I hated teaching for so long – especially when I was switching jobs every year. Now that I’ve got a bit of stability I (completely surprising myself) love it. Your mileage, of course, may totally vary.

  3. Louise says:

    (and of course you may always hate it just like I know I would hate the llamas because they spit, don’t they? Or is that just camels?)

    • alianora says:

      Nope – they spit! And I would probably hate taking care of them, but sometimes it seems like a much better option. I have my fingers crossed that i’ll still be employed here next year and will hate it less. why does the admin team at every school want to suck away my will to live? WHY?