#cat vents

[pretty-boys-book-club]

haven’t posted here in months because I was trying so hard to be the best employee I could be and then I got fired yesterday 😢

[vanilla-bean-buttercream]

"If you really loved kids you wouldn't do it for the money."

I got my first parent to say this to my face yesterday, and I'm still not over it. It's because our tuition prices are being raised by $15. After all, we're paying our teachers a little over $10 an hour now.

Like, I get it. Child care is really expensive, and the amount of parents I've had choose between working a minimum wage job and child care is way too damn high. No one likes paying a hundred dollars a week to send their child to school.

But here's the thing. I never did this for the money.

I knew going into the profession I was never going to make 6 figures (let alone half of that). I was warned not to be a teacher because it doesn't pay well. I still became a teacher? Why? Because it was never about the money.

I went to school to get a degree in education. I have to get 3 different background checks every 2 years (and pay for each one) just to do my job. I could work for a gas station down the road that didn't need a degree, pays $15 an hour, and I'd only have to work 8 hours a day. Yet I'm still here. Why? Because it was never about the money.

As soon as we were allowed, we stayed open during the pandemic. Yeah, your 2-year-old needed masks, and our class sizes were reduced (which meant fewer spots) but we were there for you. We sanitized everything, risked getting covid (which 5 teachers including myself did get), and pushed through days where we worked up to 11-hour shifts just to keep the school going. Just to give yourself and your child a little bit of normalcy in these uncertain times. Why? Because it was never about the money.

I love working with kids. I go to work every day with a smile on my face and usually leave with one too. I get to play, act goofy, sing songs, dance, and create relationships that last a lifetime. I get told "I love you" every day more times than I can count. I've gotten enough hugs to last me a lifetime.

I also have scars where I've been scratched, bruises where I've been kicked, bald spots where my hair has been pulled out, and had to get a new pair of glasses because they were broken. I've had my room torn apart because a kid didn't want to transition from playtime to breakfast. I've had to hold kids because they were hurting themselves on purpose. Yet I still go to work every day knowing that I can get hurt. Why? Because it was never about the money.

I love my job. It was never about the money. But I can't live in this world without making money. I need to make myself food. I need to put gas in my car. I need to pay my electric and water bill. I need to pay taxes to send other kids to school. I need to buy supplies for my classroom to do fun projects so your kid doesn't have to bring them.

I love my job. It was never about the money. But if I have to think about getting a second job to pay my taxes, that takes away from your kids. That's less time I have to plan fun activities, think up cool games, and less time for me to readjust myself so I don't burn out.

I love my job. It was never about the money. But the reason teachers are leaving is because they can't afford to be a teacher.

One day, I'm going to burn out. That fire that keeps me going is going to extinguish. When it's only about the money, that's when it's time to stop being a teacher. They say every teacher gets to that point, and that's when they know it's time to retire. That's why I've had teachers well into their 80s teaching (you know, the ones we all thought were going to die at their desk) because that fire never went out. That's why I've seen teachers leave the profession at 30 because they couldn't handle the work conditions they were handed.

If I didn't have to do my job for the money, I would gladly do it. But that's not the world I live in.

And if you keep insisting teachers only do it for the kids and not for the money, there's going to be a lot fewer teachers in the world.

It's already happening.

[dottores]

one of my biggest pet peeves on this app is people that only interact with works i reblog i swear to god oml. why even follow me if you’re only gonna interact w other peoples content or shit posts that i reblog. i am very hyper aware to that, i notice it every time. it makes my eye twitch

[catshmacc]

Hey can one of you adopt me or something thanks

[kaidrawss]

“i don’t feel like myself anymore”

[purrtlepuff]

It’s amazing how your mental health can go downhill so fast without a warning. It wasn’t like a “oh I lost my shoe now I’m anxious about where I put it” kind of occurrence, but a multiple bad things this week that happened that snowballed into an avalanche that crashed into and buried me last night.

It started Tuesday evening, though it was rather minor. It was flurrying all day. Nothing we northerners couldn’t handle, but it still made the roads slippy. My car does not do well in anything but sunny... not an exaggeration (but i refuse to get a new car because I love the dumb toaster of a thing ok). 

So my dad picked me up on his way home from work to go to their house for supper with the promise of bringing me home. No big deal; he’s done it before. 

Problem was, the snow got a little worse. When he asked if I still wanted to go home, I said yes. My mom voiced how dumb it was and that I should just stay there instead of making my dad drive out to my house. However, my dad’s from New York, so 2 inches of snow was no big deal to him.

We got up to my house without any problems. The roads weren’t great, but they weren’t horrid. The scenery was beautiful! Anyway, I asked him to call me when he got home, and he agreed. So I’m waiting by the phone, because all I can think about is my mom’s words about my dad getting into an accident. And I’m waiting. And I know it should only take 15-20 minutes driving slow. Still no call after 30 minutes.

I messaged my sister nearly in tears and hoping he was home. Turns out he got home safely and went for a shower, forgetting to call. No big deal, crisis averted. I still didn’t sleep much that night, because my brain was still set in panic mode.

The next day, the roads are horrible. It was colder than before, and the wind kept blowing everything I just shoveled back onto my driveway (gotta dab on that wind I guess). 

Anyway, my boss called me up at 9:30 and asked if I could be in to work in an hour. At this point, I still had a lot of driveway to go and unknown road conditions. Reluctantly, I agreed, because I knew she wouldn’t call me unless she needed me.

So I’m anger shoveling my driveway, because I’m tired and I really don’t want to drive on these roads, especially because I don’t want to face my mom when she finds out I agreed. It did wonders, because I nearly cleared 4 inches of deep snow off my 100 foot driveway in about 30 minutes solo. (i’m gonna be so good at hugging!). And guess what? My boss calls me up and says I’m no longer needed, and we have a good laugh about how she got me to get up and exercise.

Well, I only have a little more to shovel, so I figure I’ll stay outside and finish it. Maybe do my aunt’s driveway too, because now I’m more frustrated than mad and need something to do.

And as I’m shoveling, my Aunt calls out her window that my mom was trying to get a hold of me. I politely thanked her and went back in my house. You’d think I’d been missing for 3 days with the way my mom handled it. (she could’ve just called my cell like my boss but never did oh well) And again, she indirectly reminded me why I have anxiety in the first place.

Welp, now my day’s off to a really bad start, I’m tired, I have nothing to do, and I just want today to be over already. I should’ve napped, but I couldn’t.

There was also some drama in groups I’m involved in. I won’t tell you who, but there were some nasty words being thrown about. Already in a bad mood, I didn’t feel safe enough voicing my usual mediator opinions. So I just... left it be. 

It got worse and worse, and I felt all I could do was watch. I didn’t want to take any unnecessary pent up feelings out on the group. That’s not fair to them. So I put the group on mute and tried to distract myself with other friends.

And later that night, that’s when Mark’s insanity came through. Now, I had a good time with it at first. I thought it was a weird little thing to get the community going. A few of my friends even joined in on it and sent me the messages (and I got to meet someone off anon for the first time <3) I even set up a sort of refugee place for people to go to, as like a joke, so they’d feel safe from the demons.

However a few of my friends... they didn’t take it as a joke. In fact, it actually scared them. I was rather sympathetic and inviting, or at least I hoped so, and reassured them it was all just a game and it will blow over soon.

I was worried for them, but at least I actually got sleep.

Then yesterday, something happened that I saw coming. One of our families was going through a divorce... a really nasty one... with a really nasty parent. I don’t want to overshare, but I was given instructions on what to do if the parent ever came in for their kids. I mean, it’s not unusual to have court orders on which parent can and can’t have a child on a specific day, but this one... this one actually scared me.

It still scares me.

Anyway, I hoped to anyone up above that my social media sites were under control. I needed that PMA so bad. However, I was unsuprised to find it got worse... much worse. I was actually disgusted worse. My whole dash was nothing but yelling, accusations, and just plain meanness. Nothing I wanted to see. 

I still thank the anon that sent the positivity message. You were a hero last night. 

However, soon after I posted my discontent with the fandom, I got a chilling anon message. I don’t think they were part of the cult, because they were on anon, but it set me over the edge. 

I blocked and deleted the message. I turned off asks, and still have them off because I’m too afraid to turn them back on, and logged off for the night. I barricaded myself in my house, locking even my basement door and propping chairs against them, hid keys, and slept with a knife beside my bed.

I didn’t sleep at all. I kept waking up at every little noise in my house. I’ve never been that afraid in my life. And I’m sure it was just someone being an asshole, but knowing that information about me... what if they knew more? What if they knew where I worked? What if they showed up at my school? Would they do worse? What if they couldn’t get at me and instead went after my neighbors? My thoughts just kept getting worse and worse.

Today... today was one of the most exhausting yet uplifiting days I think I’ve had in my life. I mean, I’ve always been thankful to have my job, but today I was godawful thankful to have my job. It was like an 8 hour therapy session. I’m so thankful and lucky to do what I do and work with the people I work with.

Edit: A minor note on this above part... I feel rather stupid now. Apparently a friend sent me an anon message asking about the event, and they used my first name by accident instead of my middle name. That’s what freaked me out. |D

It was worded like “What the fuck’s up with this Mark stuff [my real name]” and I just... |D It fried my brain. We cleared the air about it now, thankfully, but it still bugs me I reacted this way. All because I read a post about someone getting doxxed (which is FLIPPING FAKE THANKS FOR SENDING ME OVER THE EDGE FOR NO REASON YA JERK)

I’m still not at my 100%. I still feel like I’m just existing, and that’s it. I’m hoping to feel better tomorrow, because it’s the weekend.

Thank you so much for your time. I really do appreciate you skimming over this and taking interest in me. I know it was just a huge dump of angst, but it honestly made me feel a little better. Heck, usually I do this and never post them. 

Just thank you, every one of you, for being here for me. It means a lot. <3

-Cat

[growningupgeek]

Welcome to "you're single while everyone around you is happily paired off "day On that bitter note I'm going back bed.

[pretty-boys-book-club]

I’ve been here on tumblr for a while (way longer than I’ve had this profile, probably started posting on this hell site circa 2013), and I always saw people from other fandoms saying stuff like “the original trilogy is better” or “I preferred it when that specific person was showrunner” and I never understood. Because if you love something, if a movie, book, band or tv series makes you feel ✨things✨, in this grim messy world we live in, why on Earth would you complain about receiving more of the very thing you claim to love?

But now I get it. And unfortunately, that’s exactly what I feel whenever I see things about the reboot. Will I watch it? Of course I will, I’ll watch it, and post about it, and analyse the hell out of it like I always do with the shows I like, because I love these characters so much that every minute I get to see them on my screen is pure gold. But, wow, nothing will top how I feel watching the original show. And it's okay. I’ve changed, the characters have changed, the producers have changed and I guess all that’s left to do is accept nothing will ever be the same. And maybe, as confusing as that might sound, that’s a good thing. So, what I guess I’m trying to say is: here’s to new beginnings. May this new season/show be kind to us fans.