Live Blogging This Blog

The concept of live blogging anything makes my eyes roll so hard.  It makes regular blogging seem like it's devoid of narcissism by comparison.

You know what is some maddening bullshit?

Tonight, a friend's band is playing at a pub that's less than a mile from my place.  It's a nice night, parking is such a pain in the city, plus I'd lose my nice spot when I got home.  I know I have a ride home, so why don't I walk?

Time to get ready.  Hmm are these jeans too tight?  I don't want any unwanted attention, but they're stretchy and comfortable, and they stay up without a belt.  I've put on a long sleeved T over my tank top, should I wear something that covers me more?  Do I need an extra-strength bra, in case it's chilly?  Well my hair is down, I can't wear it up because women with ponytails and braids are easier targets for grabbing.  And at least I don't have to think about my shoes, since I'm a sneakers person.

I can't listen to music or talk on the phone while I walk - those distractions could prevent me from noticing danger.  It's a weeknight, so I don't have anyone to go with because everyone has to work in the morning.

I can't take the most direct route - the last time I went in that direction, at noon on a Wednesday, a drunk man lurched out of a construction site and asked me to have sex with him.  And the time before that, two men followed me for awhile, keeping pace as I changed speeds and directions, even though I had a big dog with me.  Maybe those men prefer to harass women during daylight hours, but I'd rather not find out.

I am thinking of the streets with the most traffic though, and they have to have lots of lights.  I prefer walking against traffic on the one-ways, so I can see what's up a little better.

I actually considered calling my sister to tell her my route, destination, and what I'm wearing just in case.

I thought of all of this.  All of it, and probably more.  I even chided myself for doing something so stupid as considering walking to a bar alone.  I know what happens to women who go out alone.  And frankly, I'm afraid that my too tight jeans might become a talking point if it does.

My boyfriend texts: Wait for me.  You should not go alone.

He's right, but he is hours from home.

Habits for a Better Life

I'm a substitute teacher in a county that lacks the resources it needs to do much beyond corralling the kids for 8 hours a day.  I was lucky enough to land the coveted long-term sub position when a teacher allegedly injured a student.  I know the teacher; I know the student.  I came in liking the teacher and mistrusting the student.  Now I'm considering leaving with my respect for the teacher greatly diminished, and my fondness for the student surprisingly blossomed.

Me: I'm impressed by your sensitivity to the nuances of bias and race.

Student with a surprisingly historical name: Yeah well my mom was a Black Panther.  No, psych.

The teacher, I have come to learn, put these kids at a disadvantage when she gave them the option to sit on the bad side of room.  The bad side - you don't have to work or learn, let alone be quiet or respectful.  I wouldn't allow that of course, and I'm paying for it.

It's worth it.  And I'll explain that someday.

In the meantime, the stress of the commute, the low pay, and the mortgage and the rent that I can't afford means that it's quickly becoming apparent that I shouldn't keep doing this anymore.

I've been trying to improve things.  Too many nights I've come home, wallowed in my depression, and done damage to my body and to my relationships.  Too often, I squander the time I used to defend so fiercely.  So I began to change my daily habits one at a time.  I returned to flossing, to using my neti pot, to cleaning my face with oils, to studying, and to meditating.  This week I'll return to real exercise and to reading.

But maybe it's not enough.  Maybe it's time to be bold enough to walk away from something that's doing so little good and that holds no potential beyond a few more stressful days. 

I don't want to work this far from home.  I don't want to lose 2-3 hours a day in my car, surrounded by other people desperate to get home, so that I can search in vain for a parking space, before finally wedging my car between two jerks who think taking up a spot and a half is the best way to protect their junkers just to find a threatening note on my windshield in the morning.

I actually tried to quit yesterday, but I went to the office and found it empty.  I couldn't even find an administrator to quit to.  That's in keeping with the spirit of the place I suppose.

The real habit I need to consider is the one I have of worrying about the future to the point of trapping myself in a place that will assuredly lead to a subpar future.