Finding Forty, Day 273; Pink Slips and Hope

As ever, time has passed and changes, so many changes have come about.    My dalliances with the young one (I referred to him as 'the kid') only lasted a few days.   Like fellow blogger Kate says in the comments below, fit and cute only go so far.   I couldn't get over his horrible spelling and grammar on his texts.   I also couldn't get over his tongue!

Being 40 has it's ups and downs, but one of the perks has been that I finally am able to recognize what I like, don't like, and more importantly, have the courage to say so.

When I would kiss 'the kid', I could not stand the way his tongue felt.  It was huge and thick and soft and mushy.  I kept trying to overcome my distaste for it, thinking that perhaps it would reap other benefits elsewhere, if you catch my drift.   But my 40 year old self remembered how important kissing is to me and knew it would always bother me.

And then something else happened.

Last Tuesday, the same day as my last blog, I found out that my position at work is being eliminated.   While I haven't received the official pink slip, it's a well known fact in my district that with the massive budget cuts that need to be made, all probationary teachers will be let go.   Probationary contract status, for me, means I am a new hire.  I am finishing up my second year in the district, the last little bit of my probationary contract, and got caught in the crossfire.

I am a good teacher with a Master's Degree, but I will have to go.  My performance has never been substandard, I've never been reprimanded for anything, never placed on a growth plan, but I am out.   I understand that the district has to implement a plan that is fair for all, but it almost feels fair for none.

You can imagine the shock, the fear, the numbness I felt, particularly on that Tuesday night when I first found out.   'The Kid' didn't even say he was sorry when I told him.   I think the words he texted back were 'Shut up!'    I knew he meant 'get out of town' or 'no way', but I wanted more of a shoulder to cry on than a passing glance.    I just didn't have the energy for him.   Oh, that and he didn't get my Mrs. Robinson joke.   Please!

I can handle just about anything, but as you longtime reader's know, I am handling many things right now.   Pending divorce, pending bankruptcy due to the failure of "A"'s business, and now this.

Mostly I'm just tired.   Exhausted.  Cannot find the strength to even begin to know how to move forward.

I spent a few days crying.

I broke down and called 'S' who was sympathetic and nice, but comfortably sitting in his office, getting ready to go home to his wife, who would be coming home from her job.

Anger poured through me as I realized how his life had changed not one iota, while mine seems to be unraveling at the seams.

But then I stop and ask myself...is it really?   Maybe all of this is a gift?    S can go on with his life, with all of the same problems that existed when our affair first began, never dealing with them, never facing adversity of any sort.

I have to believe that in the end, I will come out stronger, wiser, more worn, but with a patina that shows my value.

Maybe this is an opportunity to reinvent myself or become even truer to who I've always wanted to be?  Maybe I find a job that combines writing and fashion and music or any combination of all of the things I so love?   Who knows?

If I stop and dwell for too long, the fear creeps in.   If I lay down to rest, I worry I might not have the strength to even get up.   So, I do my best to keep moving forward.

When I feel this way, I think of Mary Tyler Moore.  Forgive me if I've shown this already on my blog.

I'm gonna make it after all...