Monday, August 20, 2012

Because I want to complain

The spaghetti.  It put me over the edge.

Every once in a while I have to buy lunch from work.  Usually Oscar and I make enough dinner to last us over to lunch, but occasionally we won't eat dinner or whatever and we won't have lunch.  Oscar gets his lunch from a tasty soda down the road, I get mine from the worthless lady who cooks for the school.  And for some reason, it's always pasta.

Freaking pasta.

I pay 1800c (about $3.50) for a plate of over cooked spaghetti topped with some watery tomato thing with cilantro.  And man are they stingy with the sauce.  It never covers the pasta, so you mostly eat plain pasta that might be a little wet from the tomato liquid.  *ugh*

Okay I should just bring my lunch every day, I know.  And I try.  But this is my blog and I want to complain goddamit!

Now for the next part.  I've complained before about these stupid "relaxation" things the school was forcing us to do on Mondays after school.  Well Mondays happen to be the only day I get to leave after lunch.  Every teacher has one of these days, and my day is Monday.  I never went, because I didn't want to.  The relaxation classes have thankfully stopped.  So of course, the school has decided to make weekly meetings every day after school on, you guessed it, Mondays.

I'm pissed.  When I read the email I sort of flipped my shit.  It's just not fair.  I'm one of the few teachers who has to stay until 3pm on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, plus I have a full day Friday.  So Monday was my day.  My day to walk my dog for over an hour.  The day the cleaning lady comes.  The day I can take a quick afternoon nap.  It was my freaking day.

I get it.  Most people work until 5pm.  I get that complaining I can't leave until after 3pm is sort of snobby.  I don't care. I care that for almost an entire year I've been working half days on Mondays and now I will have to sit around an extra 2 hours to sit around another 2 hours in some pointless meeting.

The thing is, I was totally over this.  I had decided to go to this meeting, then talk to the director about it.  Somehow finagle my way out.  Because when I think about it, being angry doesn't change the situation, it just makes me miserable.

But that pasta.  That stupid pasta.  It made me angry.

Being the mature person I am, I plan to be completely passive aggressive.  I'll go to your goddamn meetings.  But I'm not saying a damn thing.  I will not participate.  I won't act interested or like I'm paying attention.  You're taking away my freaking Monday, and I will not pretend to enjoy it.

So you can now leave comments about how I'm being a spoiled brat complaining about having to stay at school until *gasp* 3pm.


Paula Brown said...

hahaahahah Signe you are soo funny!! Miss you!!!