i’m extremely tempted to start looking for another job.
i love my job. i thoroughly love some of my colleagues. i love the students [for the most part, and maybe like is a better word].
i’m just fidgety.
my [paternal] nana-with-the-long-garden always claimed that i was a fidgeter. i would stay at hers and she would take me to london on double decker buses and make me drink orange squash from big brown medicine bottles. she would moan about my fidgeting, how it kept her awake at night, and how i wouldn’t stop kicking her under the bed-clothes. i still fidget. my fingers and feet rarely stop moving. sometimes i wake up to discover the duvet in a higgledy-piggledy mess.
yesterday in the car i was discussing the advantages of a new job with the blokey. if i could get a job at the high school in flathicktown i wouldn’t have to pay for bus fares and i’d be able to leave home later and get home earlier. the one thing i don’t like about that is living in such close proximity to the kids. however, there is a town about six miles away and if i could get a job at the high school there then so much the better.
then today i was sitting on the toilet and it suddenly dawned on me that when it comes to places of work i can never seem to settle. i’ve never worked anywhere for longer then two years.
should i be worried about this?
i’ve had lots of jobs. the big brother used to give me measly amounts of money to help him deliver the papers on his paper round. i then became a little more mature and began babysitting [i had regular families for lots of years, and it’s strange now to think that the kids i used to babysit for are all grown-up, in one case, degree’d, married and divorced]. then we had the shoe shop [i was sacked], littlewoods [left to go to university], the bacon factory [agency work, it paid quite well], birthdays [the card shop, i was accused of stealing – i didn’t but i know who did], a stint when i was unemployed [you think they’re crying out for teachers? they’re not], eighteen months in a school in essex [temporary contract, they couldn’t afford to keep me at the end of it], two years at a school in norwich [became depressed, lots of factors contributing to this], a year in a clothes shop [unchallenging, unmotivating, boring], almost two years at a school in gip [two positions, left to move here with the blokey], and the job i have now, just over a year.
leaving jobs hasn’t always been my idea. but mostly it has. and for someone who doesn’t like change, is extremely shy and stand-offish when first met, it’s quite impressive that i haven’t made more of an effort to stay put in one place.
i’m sure that if i went to see a therapist [which i would never do, i’ve had one bad experience with a counsellor thank you very much – plus i can always get therapy for free as the notsowickedstepmother is a qualified counsellor, with a degree and everything] they would find some reason for this happening. even as i type about it i can feel my fingers getting itchy and wanting to dance across the internet looking for jobs.
maybe i worry about things too much. maybe i prefer to leave a job before the job leaves me [you know these pesky jobs – love them too much and they’ll leave you in tears without so much as a goodbye]. perhaps i’m reading too much into this and millions of people all over the world change their jobs with matched regularity.
and maybe, just maybe, i’m in the wrong profession. but i don’t believe that for a second.
[:::edit::: my inner child, courtesy of the evil one …
|Your Inner Child Is Angry|
|You’re not an angry person.|
But when you don’t get your way, watch out.
Like a very manipulative kid, you will get what you want.
Even if it takes a little kicking and screaming.
who would have known … ?]
please god bless my need to move on xxx elsabeth