It's been a very rainy morning, but I guess it's over now.
Life is strange all over, y'know?
So I was having a discussion just now -- in fact, a renewal of an earlier discussion that just came up again after I typed these first two sentences -- about how the school is not the same as it was; this is normal, of course, that the staff changes over time. I just don't know all of the young people, and this is normal, too. They hang together, all the twenty-somethings, and rarely get chummy with us old-timers, unless an old-timer has been assigned to mentor them. This is a thing I've been contemplating for awhile, because my best friend on the staff is retiring, and it forces you to wonder: who will I eat lunch with? Who will sit next to me at a faculty meeting? Not that I'm worried in a seventh-grade sort of way, I'm just wondering.
When school begins next year, I will be very close to the top of the seniority list. I don't remember exactly where, but maybe 7 or 8 out of a staff of 125 or so. So there aren't so many contemporaries for me to hang out with. I've kind of assumed that one of the people I would sit with or eat with is a woman in the history department in her late thirties. We've always been friendly, we spend some time together now. I enjoy her company, we always have something to talk about. So her, at least. But this morning, she told me she put in for a transfer to the middle school. She needs a change.
I am really, really happy for her, because I know she's been unhappy here due to some changes made in her department. And I'm not seeing this in a weird "Oh, but what about me?" kind of way, because this is about her and not me. It is bringing the changes around here more into the forefront of my thinking.
It's not that there aren't other people here in their fifties, or other people that I can talk to. There are, in both cases, although the groups don't always intersect especially well. And then I think, only three more years.
Now, it's entirely possible that in two and a half years, I will feel that it's more in my interest to stay than to go, although I hope not. As I've said, I'd rather get another job doing something else than stay here. Part of the reason for that is this sense that after you reach a certain point, you no longer belong, if that's what it is, this sense that all the people who you ever knew that you felt were your colleagues are already gone.
Ever so slightly off the subject, I'm starting to get a little irritated with the Chum's sense of having one foot out the door. Again, it's not that I'm not happy for her, because I am, and it's not that I'm thinking of me, because I'm not, not in the who-am-I-going-to-sit-with way. It's more that she is eating, breathing, and sleeping imminent retirement, which is fine for her and part of the mental process, but she's starting to say things about it to me that sound almost pitying, like she can't believe I have to endure this beyond this year. And despite everything I say, I am not ready to go just yet. She's already suggested that I go this year too, because it might be worth it even though I'd have to take a penalty for retiring before 55. Uh .... So I reminded her that I still have a mortgage, not to mention children who are not yet independent, and I still need my salary to live on. Oh, she forgot that. Her husband is 20 years older than she is, so when she married him 25 years ago, he already owned his house free and clear and his three sons were in their twenties, not that any of them went to college, so she never had that expense either. And her husband already retired ten years ago. I'm not saying she doesn't have plenty of reason and opportunity to retire, just that I, at this moment in time, don't. I may have mentioned this; she said a week or so ago that once she's retired, she'll come back here a few afternoons a week and we can take long walks. Well, that's a jim-dandy idea, but I'll still be working all day. If she's not willing to take those walks now after working all day, what makes her think I'll be so willing to it next year? Who says I'll have a few free afternoons a week to give to her when I'll still be living the same life I'm living now? It's a very odd disconnect going on here.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed that nothing goes wrong with R's apartment-to-be. Everything is looking terrific, except for one little detail: the tenant who was supposed to be out by Feburary 1 just didn't happen to move. Since two of her roommates needed to move in this weekend, it's more a problem for them than for R, who isn't moving in until March, but still. They're using a reliable realtor, and the kids have made all appropriate payments, and the landlady at this point would be way happier to have the new tenants than the old one she's trying to get rid of. It just needs to work out. Not that the guy has any legal standing to stay there, or has even paid rent for February. Or January, for that matter. So I took Q back to the vet last night. The results are still inconclusive, although they took x-rays so we know there's no blockage or anything like that. The vet thinks she probably has inflammatory bowel disease -- who doesn't in this house -- but since we can't get her to take medicine, it's all moot. They could do more sophisticated and very expensive tests, but it would only confirm the vet's suspicion that this is what it is, and since we can't treat her for it anyway, why put her through it? We're going to put her on a new prescription catfood starting next week, and hopefully she'll gain some weight back on that and it'll help for awhile. She doesn't appear or act sick at all, and is very bright-eyed and still affectionate. She's just withering away, and all the while ravenously hungry. She's just not retaining the nutrients she's eating. So we'll see how that goes. In unrelated news, I had two pieces of Dove dark chocolate today. So there.
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I'm watching Ellen
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