Boyfriend Fired
Sometimes, behaving as opposing walls are prone to, I echo the words of my mother and say, “When it isn’t one thing, it is another.” They’ve rewarded my partner for his 12-hour Christmas shifts by waiting until they no longer needed him to fire him. My reaction to this wasn’t authentic, but prerequisite.
Stopping to think, however, was it at all surprising? And, considering we’d talked about him putting an end to their abuse, this has only served to expedite the process. Let them think they’re getting away with something. Let them think they have the upper hand…as we move on, each infraction a pruning, shaping the appearance of a thorny hedge around productivity, for what kind of harvest can they expect when they don’t tend to the crops?
Back to English Teaching?
Despite an attempt to comfort by saying he should try not to worry, I applied for five jobs in Costa Rica yesterday, of which only one wasn’t for the post of English teacher.
[Runs away and hides under a table]
Listen! If you want me to continue writing honestly, you shouldn’t throw things at me when I fall short of your expectations. If it’s of any comfort (and it shouldn’t be) I am falling short of my own expectations which are now tiered. There are not many jobs on offer (that I’m qualified to do) that wouldn’t depress me more than an English teaching job, but I’ll still need to make money to meet my commitments.
Animal Facility Option
One position is ideal. It is as a guide at an animal rescue, rehabilitate and release facility. I’ve done something similar before and I’d be good at it, but am not so confident about my present ability to give tours in Spanish since there is so much new specific vocabulary I’d have to learn first. The requirements are that you have a background in biology, tourism or tours. Instead, I’m going to be smart and extroverted and gay (lighthearted and carefree).
I’m applying for everything (the ones that won’t make me hate myself) hoping to change jobs as I find ones that bring me closer to my organic gardening experience.
Applications where sent off yesterday and I awoke today to one of the schools asking whether I was already in Costa Rica. But getting a teaching job was never a concern, just the anguish of seeing no other way but to participate in putting myself in that cage again, to show myself to be worthy of being kept in it, to preform my classroom tricks because references are not enough to feed the tradition of the job application process which is a dog show with human participants.
*Not suicidal. Refers to my life in Panama
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