thinkbrit

Because it occurs to me that yes, I can get rid of someone on Facebook, but they still have my phone number and email address.

And honestly, I’m not changing those. 

It’s just hard to disconnect from relationships that should’ve been left alone long ago which still seem to hurt in spite of (or maybe because of?) the other party also having moved on.

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Things I notice:

I am a far saner, happier person when I work out regularly.

Remind me of that, will ya?

After the CrossFit adventure last night, I went to a Spinning class with a friend/co-worker (different from last night’s friend). I may not be able to walk tomorrow. I may actually fall down my own stairs on the way out tomorrow. It’ll be grand.

I had my formal observation today. At 7:30, I went in to school to have my pre-brief with my principal. We talked until school started at 8:30. During my morning plan time, I had my PLC with our BRT about this latest genre study. Taught math, had my observation during writer’s workshop, ate lunch, dealt with children’s drama from lunch and recess. Met with my principal for our post-observation de-brief at 1:30. Talked until 2:50. Love her. Had so many great ideas, and got some good feedback. And some much-needed recognition.

Then I was silly with children while I modeled how to present their, uh, presentations. I did everything wrong- ate while presenting, turned my back to them, mumbled, read directly from the slides, etc. They thought I was hilarious. What a lovely way to end my Thursday.

Then Girls on the Run, where we talked about our community project (Project Worthmore, which is a non-profit that collects boots for recent immigrants from Burma who now live in Denver). The girls ran a mile, and then we talked about how to dress for our projected 30-degree 5K on Sunday.

Then Spinning.

Now collapsing. But seriously. I smiled so much today. I found myself just looking up at the stars and smiling on my way into my apartment tonight.

It was truly a lovely day. And tomorrow is Friday.

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I started writing in it when I was still in high school, and continued right through to my senior year of college, when I started this tumblr.

I was so sad. I was so sad and I hated myself.

I was incredibly unkind to myself. I called myself lazy and fat and depressed (and I was depressed).

I have entries about how my sister tried to kill herself, how my boyfriend’s brother tried to kill himself the same week… I wrote about a dream I had about being on sister-watch (it happened for a while after she tried to kill herself the… second time?) and how I dreamed that she tried to kill herself on my watch.

I want to go back in time and just hug myself. Reassure myself that things will turn out okay. On the one hand, I’m glad it’s still there so I can see how far I’ve come. On the other hand, it’s so incredibly sad.

I was beginning my life as a nanny and college graduate in the “real world.” Of course, I was working for family as a nanny and “household manager,” but I was supporting myself. No health insurance? Whatever. I was moving to the city I’d wanted to live in since I was a child.

I moved there. I lived in a lovely, furnished, UES sublet and took care of my 4-year old cousin. I washed and folded clothes, ironed linen napkins, polished silver, cooked lots of meals the boys wouldn’t eat, and once, was stabbed in the arm with a fork. I tried my hardest to love it there. I cooked. I baked. I visited museums. I spent time with dear Wellesley friends. One of my best friends in the world lived with me for a month until she got settled. Now she is still there, 3 years later.

I was dissatisfied. I was lonely. My job wasn’t cutting it; I was alone at the family’s apartment most of the day, cleaning and watching terrible daytime TV. I cleaned on Friday and Saturday nights. I came home - Colorado - as often as I could.

Then my hours got cut. They hired a new housekeeper without telling me. The doorman asked if I was leaving because they had heard the family was interviewing candidates. I was angry and devastated. I was barely making rent, but couldn’t get another job because the nanny hours were still from about 1:30-8 pm except on the mornings they needed me. I could have (should have) quit immediately, but I couldn’t have lived for long without an income. I was tired of being a nanny. I struggled for months with the fact that I had moved to New York - New York, where I had dreamed of living since age 6 - only to find it wasn’t the place for me. I was homesick for Colorado. I was homesick for Massachusetts. I missed mountains and nature and being near my family.

I didn’t want to give up after only 6 months of living in the city. I felt like an abject failure. I felt like I hadn’t tried hard enough. It was only after I realized that I would stay up until 3 in the morning watching repeats of How I Met Your Mother I had DVR’d only so that I could legitimately sleep until noon and not have to face the city… only after I had been so sick that I could barely stand up but I still had to go to work and couldn’t see a doctor because I had no health insurance… only after I realized that I wanted to go home, and home wasn’t here… did I decide to suck it up and come back to Colorado.

I realized I wanted to teach. I researched and applied to teaching programs from New York. I used frequent flier miles to fly home for interviews to programs. I didn’t have anything lined up when I came home.

I lived with my grandmother for a year and a half. For 3 months, I didn’t know if I would have a job or get accepted to a teaching program. I lived in what used to be a guest room and moped. I was depressed. I collected cheerful quotes about making the most of life and looking on the bright side. I made some interesting life choices. I worked for a photo booth company. I fell head over heels for someone completely unhealthy for me. I went to interviews. Finally, I got a call from Polaris asking for an interview (I still remember Jan’s call). Then, I got the call offering me the intern position. Catherine had strep throat when she called to tell me. I was thrilled.

And now, 2 years later, I am teaching my own 4th grade gifted & talented class. If you’d told me 3 years ago that I’d be here, I would have laughed at you. I would have told you I was going to work in a gallery or a museum. I was going to be in New York. I was going to go to library school and get a Masters of Library Science. I wasn’t going to be a teacher.

Even though, ever since second grade, I knew. And I’m so glad to be where I am and know who I know. It was a long, winding, and tough road to get here. But I’m here now, and that’s what matters.

I really hate that one facebook post by someone I don’t even know about someone I intentionally don’t talk with can throw off my evening.

I’m trying really hard not to let it throw me off, but apparently my energy for maintaining my sanity was zapped by the children today.

I’m awesome because:

• I have an awesome job that I worked hard to get
• I have most of a master’s degree
• I have amazing friends who love me
• I have a terrific family that loves me
• My cat is super fluffy
• I can do short spine in Pilates (oh my goodness, you guys, I felt a stretch tonight!)
• I am supporting myself
• I made it through today without losing my mind
• I am writing a whole bunch of awesome lessons/units
• I work hard
• I love my family and friends
• I’ve lost 30 pounds in the last 5 months
• I have continued to eat well and exercise- even since school has started

Sigh. I’m really awesome. I’m so awesome that I don’t even care about that thing on facebook. Right?

Seeing pictures of me that my principal posted on her weekly blog from today’s team-building activities and not hating the way I look.

I still see how I can look better and healthier and skinnier, but I didn’t go, “Oh, why is that picture up?? Take it down!”

I will take that victory.

(Other good things from today: lots of people noticed and nicely commented on my nearly 25-pound weight loss, including one colleague who complimented me on my hard work and let me know that she is there for me if I ever want or need to talk. I love my staff.)

A weirdly dangerous tool that can make one incredibly nostalgic in mere minutes.

Until you realize that it’s been 45 minutes of you looking at posts and pictures on your timeline from summer-winter of 2010… a time that was probably best glossed over/selectively forgotten in your mind.

Facebook makes it way too easy to be wistfully nostalgic but also relieved.

Gah. My family.

Just.

I can’t even.

• return home and continue recovering from surgery
• keep working on classroom setup with amazing help from the wonderful mrsjdr
• visit/hang out with friend who is visiting from NY
• help said friend get ready for her dad’s wedding (which she and her siblings are planning and organizing themselves…)
• wedding on Saturday
• going-away party for former student on Sunday
• dinner with dad on Sunday

Phew already, and I’m only halfway down the list. And yet yay. I am so tired but so happy. I have my dearest friends close by and it is refreshing my spirit and soul.

She has been “leaking” cerebro-spinal fluid from her nose for a disconcertingly long time (a few months), and is going in tomorrow to get it repaired.

Apparently this is very rare, and they’re not entirely sure where the “leak” in her brain is, exactly. Any and all prayers or good thoughts sent my mom’s way would be greatly appreciated. 

Here we go.

I am terrible at being accountable to myself when it comes to fitness. Horrible. I am also terrible at being accountable to other people who aren’t working out with me- or even people who will/are.

So I just sent in an inquiry to a gym in the area about their personal training/weight loss program. Running isn’t for me. It’s not for everyone. I worked with a trainer a few years ago and LOVED it. Money is a little tight, but I think I could squeeze it.

I just really, really need to lose this weight, and it’s a pretty significant amount. I saw some pictures of myself from our portfolio showcase today, and I cringed. I am not comfortable in my body at all these days. I want to feel healthy and comfortable in my body again, and I need someone to keep me accountable and involved. A trainer is the only way I’ve effectively figured out how to do that. Set times with someone who will berate me if I do not show, and will push me and not let me slide.

So, here goes.