What fresh hell

Is this latest virus?


I seem to get sick a lot.

Actually, not really – maybe three times a year but it is always dramatic and always when I am teaching.

Thus and therefore –   I have been teaching very very little the last couple of months which my bank account and brain are well aware of.  And now, I’ve got a couple of weeks of subbing and


Started feeling crappy last week and it became something weird the last couple of days.  Not going to sub tomorrow but will go into the longer term gig (Tuesday-Thursday, then Mon, Wed. , Thursday next week) on Tuesday no matter what.  I am looking forward to it as it is LINC and I subbed there back in September so some of the students are the same.  And then my two nights a week at Langara are still on, although I might have to postpone those depending on how I feel.  That seems to happen every damn time I teach there!

I’m frustrated.  I’m frustrated because the timing is bad, because I get bored, because I let myself get overwhelmed.  Laryngitis last time, hopefully not this time.

It is frustrating not having a job and sick pay.

I was booked for a full day somewhere tomorrow and had to cancel but I haven’t heard back from them – hope that works out.

I get down on myself (of course) because I get sick.  Because the getting sick becomes a big deal.

Tricky and a bit difficult.

Haven’t had much of an appetite – mainly eaten ice cream.  Hmmm, not so healthy that.

In some ways, I feel like my body lets me down – my anxiety gets in there and makes things so much worse.

Gentle, says AT- or she would if  I were there now, painting away and learning just how much I love fingerpainting.

I’m going to hear this week I think if the article I wrote for The Vancouver Courier will be published or not.  The editor of the section said she’d get right back to me . . . Hmmm.  Not a bad little article if I do say so myself.  I do, I do.

So this subbing is a great little gig really.  And it is the last gig most likely until I don’t know – February, March.  So it takes on an extraordinary importance.

Twenty students in the morning, twenty or so in the afternoon.  Mainly female Chinese immigrants with a few men and other cultures thrown in there.  Three hours in the morning, three hours in the afternoon.  They are a bit of a demanding lot – I have to be on my game every second but in general lovely.

“They did say you speak too fast,” was the feedback from last time.  You don’t say.  “But they thought you were very funny.”  Uh yes, thank you.  Put me in front of some students and I generally make them laugh just from, well, being myself really.  The topic rather ironically this month is health.  I generally like that topic.  Luckily I went in last week and did a lot of prep – should be enough for the first week I hope.  It is two buses away so I went and bought a bus pass for the first time in a long time.  And then I get sick.  Of course, of course.

My brain turns quite a lot into a big deal.  It is very very good at that.

The virus makes me weak, interspersed with moments of energy when I feel better.  That kind of thing.

What else?  Oh I can’t get American Netflix anymore – media hint is no longer free.  And so goes that.

Enough has been said/written about JG to last a lifetime.  He’s rumoured to be hiding out in L.A.    He’s a narcissist and a general all around bad person but with his anxiety disorder, perhaps he is out there feeling suicidal.    This is such big and constant news in Canada and his FB page comments have degenerated into people fighting with each other.  Not sure why he hasn’t shut it down.  I said enough has been said but I am saying more.  Yup.  Oy, the secrets some people hold and then they come out and holy cow.

My dad continues to live in Ottawa at the assisted living facility he’s been at for a couple of weeks now.  Some bumps in that road but my sister and her family are looking after him mighty well so that’s lovely. I’m thankful for that.

On Thursday evening I had to schlepp to out near Lougheed Mall to go for a group interview for the three week winter camp in Korea in January.  Roundtrip airfare, $1800 in my pocket, all meals and accommodations.  Open ticket so you can travel after if you like, as long as you return from Seoul.  I don’t think I did that well at the group interview – I was feeling ill and I get competitive.  People were saying they’d lived in Korea, Japan, Honduras, China and one had even volunteered at a orphanage in India.

“I have not been to India,”  I said, “But I have been teaching for 15 years.”

Not with kids though and this camp is for grade 4-6 as I recall.  Nine to five, Monday to Friday with weekends off (apparently not usual in a camp).  Would be three intense weeks and then done.  I will find out mid-November but they are interviewing a whole whack of people.  And quite frankly,  I wonder if I could do it. Or if I’d get sick or stressed and not be able to handle it – who knows.  All the kimchi you can eat, they said, for breakfast, lunch and dinner if you like.  Rice for breakfast too if you want.

My lovely friend, C, schlepped out to near Lougheed Mall with me.  And in the dark and pouring rain we used her GPS to walk from the skytrain to find the place.  It was an apartment building the middle of nowhere but alas, a pub next door, the Irish pub, The Foggy Dew.  She sat there and waited for me – for reasons unknown to me I had taken out ‘Growing up Duggar’ from the library and so she read that whilst waiting.  Then we schlepped back in the dark and rain to the skytrain and bus situation.

“Could this be farther?” I asked her.

“Probably,” she said.

She’s a good one at staying calm during my drama.  On the way to the skytrain a huge truck kept honking at us while we were GPSing.  We were on the sidewalk but seems he was afraid he would hit her wheelchair with the tail of his truck or so he shouted.

This degenerated quickly into an argument between he and me.

“Let’s go,” said C, casually.

“But,” I said, “But he – ”

“We will go now.”

“Okay,” I said, “Right.”

On the 10,000 hour skytrain ride I pointed out that he was in the wrong and that it made sense for me to escalate the situation.

“Not really,” said C.

“Right,” I said.

I’m down on myself and my ability to do things that are out of my comfort zone.  I feel like my comfort zone boundaries have become less.  Gack.

Ooops, now I’m going back into the no energy zone.  Weird.  Teaching will be a challenge with this energy and no energy zone situation.  Not sure what drugs would give me energy.  Gravol has been working nicely dealing with the nausea although it makes me sleepy as heck.

Did I want to listen to music whilst painting, asked AT the other day. Okay, I said, here’s some Johnny Cash doing some covers.  His Nine Inch Nails ‘Hurt’ cover is extraordinary.  And then some Peter Gabriel – the song he does with Kate Bush – ‘Don’t Give Up’ not called that I don’t think.  I’d brought Stevie Nicks but we didn’t listen to it.

GENTLE, dammit.

Ha, that’s kinda funny.

It’s raining and the time change is upon us – typical Vancouver fall heading into winter.  The leaves on the trees are an amazing colour right now.  Streets and streets of red and orange.  Before I knew the virus was as icky as it is, I rode my bike up to UBC yesterday in order to sort myself out I thought.  Seems not but the trees were lovely.

Johnny Cash.  What a voice.  Actually the song that is going through my head is “The Man Comes Around.”

I’m frustrated.  With sickness, with what it makes me feel unable to do.

If I make it through these next two weeks of work, I’m getting new pants, dang it.

Sadly missed going to the Vineyard Church this morning – I’ve come to – wait for it – enjoy it a bit.

I am wordy tonight.


Carry on.

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