Nuts

This cat's not even hanging. This cat has got this.

Let's just skip awkward introductions and get down to it: one of my schools sacked me.

My mum says that when I'm a university academic at my pretentious dinner party I'll laugh about this.

"Hey guys, remember that time that Catholic nun school sacked me? Guys?"

At the moment I'm finding it hard to see the punchline. You're probably asking, why volunteer this information on the internet where future employers, hopefully from diligent-Japan, could easily Google your name and find? Isn't that irrevocably stupid? Probably, but I said, this blog is supposed to be as honest as possible and, as with all bad experiences, there was a lesson to be learned.

I'm not in the business of pretending I'm this flawless person. Trust me, I've tried, and it doesn't always work out. When we write our CVs, we try and paint ourselves as such, but who are we kidding?

And that was probably my problem, an unwavering obsession with being good. And I don't just mean being a good teacher, but a round-the-clock saint.

I couldn't stand that I'd accidentally flooded someone's bathroom, or made someone cry. And this week, I couldn't stand the continuing guilt that I couldn't return someone else's feelings.

And here is my hamartia: trying to make everything right, when sometimes you just can't. The situation is toxic, but you keep returning to it anyway. Take it from someone who once dated the same boy seven times, I never like to just admit that something isn't working out.

I could have just shut down my computer and gone to bed. But I didn't. And yes, I am so, so sorry for that. More sorry than you can imagine. Actually, you definitely can imagine.

It can seem like remedying one situation will make another one more bearable, but if that doesn't work out, and some things depend on the others, everything can just collapse like a card tower.

So I lost it. Not at school. I avoided that.

I've had

And I gave myself a three day headache.

They gave me a calm down


A sleeping pill that made me feel like I was going blind (for future reference it's called ___ and I probably wouldn't recommend taking it).





I spent the day trying to waft away the brain fog. This obviously involved cake and coffee at Roldan's. They gave me two spoons with my slice of red velvet, the jokers.

And then I did. I managed to pull some Easter flashcards out of my arse, and some activities.

I'll take up yoga, meditation, gardening... whatever it takes.




Obviously comes more guilt. I'm a burden. I'm pathetic. I fudge everything up.

Someone whose good points aren't overshadowed by haunting cloud of toxic smog.

Then I realise that that probably isn't true, and I'm grateful. Not just for the lie-in on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but for the new challenge that this presents. I'm grateful for broken hearts and fuck-ups.

And with every rock-bottom comes the comeback.

It's like make-up sex. Without, obviously, the sex. With children, but hang on a minute, no.