xeryfyn's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Hell of September September means, back to school. No matter how many years have passed since I have needed to prepare for school, I can still feel the rush and excitement of freshly sharped pencils, crackling new binders, sheets of blank new paper, stretching out for an eternity. Suddenly realized that I was starting school on Monday morning, bright and early. It was a harsh realization--getting up early, having to make lunch, driving in rush hour downtown...Urgh. I arrived at school to meet the teacher in the kindergarten room--a sickly woman who has seen her prime long ago. She squirrels away in her room and doesn't interact much with the staff. It is a hard relationship to build. She is used to having her way and I am used to a more equal footing in the classroom. There are eighteen nutty kids in the room. Some don't know thier own names, many dont have many English language skills, a few are actually ready for the rigours of school. I hang about watchng them eat lunch without their mothers hovering over every bite, without someone nagging them to eat their sandwiches before dessert. And then I realize that I have somewhere else to be and more work that needs to get done before the day is done. Back at the the university, plugging back away at the literacy project, I think about how it must be nearing the end of the line because Audrey got her teaching joba nd I had no one to do my relaibility check with. I steel myself for the axe and walk into our meeting prepared to hear just that. And it didn't come. Instead they said that I should do the next hundred selection analysis by myself. I was so startled that I was speechless (not an unnoteworthy thing), but only for a momnet. When I recovered my wts, I told them that in order for me to do the job they wanted me to do, I would need a raise. I think that my time is worth a bit more than they are paying and I think that the financial situation of grant funded research is not as dire as they let on. They put their heads together and came up with $15 per hour. This makes me happier and happy is a good thing. I find out this week what is happening with hubby's school. If I get on, the other jobs are history. Keep your fingers crossed. 8:08 p.m. - 2003-09-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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