Water

My life has been an ocean lately. Sometimes I'm swimming against this strong current. No matter how hard or fast I kick I never get further from the shore. Other times, the riptide wraps around my ankles and pulls me out to sea before I have time to realize I can't get back to the beach. This week, the two tides have been playing tug of war. One minute I feel like I'm being washed up on shore, unable to get anywhere. The next, I'm drowning somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic.

I've written quite a bit about my need to plan. I like to have blue prints for my life carefully excavated and understood. However, it seems that everytime I construct a plan I feel comfortable with, a tsunami of "what-ifs" and new develops destroy it. I can't even get my feet on the ground without getting the wind knocked out of me.

I'd like to just stop planning. Really, I would. But letting go of control is scary. Thinking that life could just happen, without my hands wrapped tightly around it, well that's petrifying.

I don't have control over my employment for next year. I don't have control over Tom finding a stable and enjoyable career. I feel like I don't even have control over where I'm going to live come June. I need something I can grasp. Something that I feel like I'm creating, controlling, molding- instead of having everything the other way around.

So, Tom and I have decided to wait till May 15 to make any moving plans. I have to wait to find out about my contract till next year. Wait to see how the next few weeks play out for Tom. It's hard to float with all this waiting on top of me. I think I could use a little advice- though I'v been known not to take others ideas too well.

Some good luck and a few breaks wouldn't be bad either.

Plans.

Plans. I spend a good portion of my life planning things out. I am most comfortable when things are stable, when I have an understanding of what's to come, when I'm in control. However, I'm beginning to realize that creating a solid plan and seeing it through don't always fall on the same page.

For the first time in my life, my job is in danger, and for nothing of my own fault. I try to go to work every day with a fresh outlook. Every time a child walks into my classroom, no matter what they did or said the previous day, they have a new page in my book. I work hard to make my lessons meaningful. I work hard to go beyond what's expected. But I, along with many other fabulous teachers, got a letter stating that our positions were up for discussion at a closed door board meeting.

My principal told me at my final evaluation (the same time as I got my rice letter) that I would be recommended for next year, however under the current circumstances she didn't know if that really meant anything. I asked her what I can expect next. A riff letter? A contract? When would these things happen? When would I know? She just shook her head and said she didn't have any idea.

But this does not fit in to my plan. Tom and I are supposed to start apartment hunting. We're supposed to move in June. We're supposed to go forward, not stay still.

A few weeks ago, I was in Atlantic City with two good friends from work. We were talking about the current climate in New Jersey schools. They were talking about their wonderful, exciting back up plans. Making invitations full time. Creating a DIY bakery. It was then I began to realize that I don't have a back up. I don't have anything else. Teaching is the end of the road for me.

It took me longer than others to discover that my calling was in education. And maybe that's why I haven't discovered what I could do if teaching doesn't work out. I just never planned on having it not work. At the same time, I don't want it to be my dead end street. I don't want teaching to be the only thing that defines me.

I was on the phone with Melinda, crying about this among other things, not too long ago. Since she is the best friend a girl could ask for, she calmed me down and made me feel a small sense of stability again. "You have your writing, Sam."

Do I? The writers group is going great but I'm still not past page 13 and I still can't stop comparing myself to everyone else (don't yell, Melinda). This blog is great too- I get out my crazy emotions, feel renewed after- but I only have a handful of readers (only 7 that I know about) so I wouldn't say it's going anywhere fast. I don't have anything concrete. I don't have anything that feels like a real plan.

And, on top of all this, I'm terrible at waiting. I get agitated, crazy, even a little mean (poor Tom). Needless to say, this maybe one of the toughest times I've ever experienced. I'm dealing with the things that make me feel the weakest- instability, self-realization, and waiting.

So the question stands, what am I supposed to do now?