I did a whole day of gardening today. It was like going to work as a gardener. I enjoyed it enormously, getting on with gardening work. The sun was mostly shining, it was a bit windy, I had butterfly and bee companions, and at the end of the day I looked back and thought, 'Now THAT was a good day's work!'
Unfortunately, it wasn't the kind of work that dished up any cold hard cash for the bills, although it had rewards a-plenty in many other respects. And even though Andy keeps reassuring me that there is no rush for me to get back to work, and I am really enjoying being at home doing home and garden stuff, I need to find paid employment of some sort to help pay for everything we want to do to make Damson Cottage 'our place.' (The title deeds finally arrived yesterday, after my sending a marginally testy email last Friday asking about their whereabouts. The accompanying letter concluded along the lines of 'if we can be of any assistance in future house conveyancing, please let us know.' Ha! As if!!)
The thing is, you see, (and here I make a confession) - I don't want to be a teacher any more. I've had enough. Teaching is a young person's game. A young person with tough skin and infinite energy. And whilst I have the energy for gardening and sewing and writing, I cannot summon up the same to entice me back to standing in a classroom with 30+ teenagers, trying to convey to them the joy of poetry/ Shakespeare/ a good book/ correct use of the capital letter and/ or full stop. Whilst the theory of the relevant energy is there, in my head, I just know that if I were to put it into practice I would turn, within the space of less than a week, into a more crabby, bad-tempered and shouty person than I already am. Which would be bad. Very bad.
So although I have put in a couple of applications to schools and sixth form colleges, I've been secretly pleased they haven't come to anything. And so I have turned my attention to other employment avenues. Like office work and shop work. Part-time, you know, just to earn a bit of cash, jobs to leave behind at the end of the day, that I can do efficiently and cheerfully. However, I am finding they are coming to nothing, too.
Andy's theory is that I am over-qualified. I have a theory that, at 50, I am edging onto the periphery of being too old. I don't feel too old - I feel no older than I did in my thirties (although after today's gardening extravaganza I expect tomorrow I shall feel about 85!). Anyway, there's not a sniff of an interview in sight. I still write my monthly magazine column, so I am earning a little, but I do need to find something else.
Another dilemma is do I apply for just part-time, because it is important that I have time to develop the garden, and decorate the house, and sew and write. Or do I apply for full-time, too? Just to get my foot back in the employment door? I have found another job to apply for - I can't say what it is at the moment because it is rather, well, 'odd' and I don't want anyone to talk me out of applying for it as it sparked my interest. BUT it is also full-time. What to do, what to do?
Of course, I know what to do. I shall apply and like all the others, leave it to fate. If I get it, I do - if I don't, I don't. And the right thing will come along. And I shall try not to succumb to feeling over the employment hill in the meantime!
Rantings, ravings, observations and musings, useful stuff, silly stuff, funny, sad and thoughtful guff!