I haven't used Blogger in years, but as you can see based on the veracity of self-evidence, it is the website I am currently, at this very moment, using to publish my original written content. I did exhaustive research to determine that Blogger was the best route to go for my blogging needs. Which is to say, it was the first non-advertised blogging website that popped up in my search results. It’s also the only blogging tool I have meaningful recollections of using in the past, other than Wordpress, and the Wordpress website showed up sixth in my results, which means it is an inferior website. Hail the Google algorithm, full of grace! I also have vague visions of dark, depressing manifestations created with Tripod, Angelfire, and I want to say LiveJournal and/or OpenDiary (?). Seriously, Tripod and Angelfire, and those diary ones. Those were all things, right? Like, not like Sinbad appearing in a genie movie level of real, but the real kind of real?
I go through this pattern where I decide I want to start writing something meaningful on a daily basis, but I typically abandon such projects within a week or so. My writing, though unusually prolific the past few months, has mostly consisted of hundreds of pages of notes with things like descriptions of the food I've eaten, strategies for being a better person, and endless observations of the immediate world around me.
Speaking of observations and immediacy, I've been substitute teaching the past several weeks. It has been positive to the extent that it has given my life more structure, even if it has not resulted in substantial amounts of economic prosperity. I've been wanting to deliver food through Postmates as an additional source of income, but I have struggled to bring myself to doing it consistently. With the things going on in my life right now, it’s hard to avoid this low-level but consistent sense of urgency about everything, which somehow makes the neurosis of writing an easier pursuit than driving around Austin.
As far as the reasons why this first post has the title it does, I am currently eating grilled cheese while researching job fairs for teachers. After over three years trying to be a successful special education teacher, with mixed results, I realize I don't think I can be truly happy in a job until I go back to working in early childhood. Based on extensive observations, I have found that children become mean, callous, and jaded around age 6, and I just don’t have the intestinal fortitude (or the fortitude of any other organs that compose the human digestive system) to subject myself to their cruelty. And it goes without saying that adults are horrifying to work with, though I clearly feel the need to say it anyway.
Because you’re dying to know, I will also describe the aforementioned grilled cheese. It’s dairy-free “cheese,” between two slices of darkened white bread. It is dairy-free because I am allergic to dairy, and also because I am not a terrible person who contributes to the dystopian exploitation we call animal agriculture.
I’d like to tie all this together in a more meaningful way, but I have now hit the 8.5” by 11” page of text that I set out to reach, so I am reasonably satisfied with my work. Good day to you!
I go through this pattern where I decide I want to start writing something meaningful on a daily basis, but I typically abandon such projects within a week or so. My writing, though unusually prolific the past few months, has mostly consisted of hundreds of pages of notes with things like descriptions of the food I've eaten, strategies for being a better person, and endless observations of the immediate world around me.
Speaking of observations and immediacy, I've been substitute teaching the past several weeks. It has been positive to the extent that it has given my life more structure, even if it has not resulted in substantial amounts of economic prosperity. I've been wanting to deliver food through Postmates as an additional source of income, but I have struggled to bring myself to doing it consistently. With the things going on in my life right now, it’s hard to avoid this low-level but consistent sense of urgency about everything, which somehow makes the neurosis of writing an easier pursuit than driving around Austin.
As far as the reasons why this first post has the title it does, I am currently eating grilled cheese while researching job fairs for teachers. After over three years trying to be a successful special education teacher, with mixed results, I realize I don't think I can be truly happy in a job until I go back to working in early childhood. Based on extensive observations, I have found that children become mean, callous, and jaded around age 6, and I just don’t have the intestinal fortitude (or the fortitude of any other organs that compose the human digestive system) to subject myself to their cruelty. And it goes without saying that adults are horrifying to work with, though I clearly feel the need to say it anyway.
Because you’re dying to know, I will also describe the aforementioned grilled cheese. It’s dairy-free “cheese,” between two slices of darkened white bread. It is dairy-free because I am allergic to dairy, and also because I am not a terrible person who contributes to the dystopian exploitation we call animal agriculture.
I’d like to tie all this together in a more meaningful way, but I have now hit the 8.5” by 11” page of text that I set out to reach, so I am reasonably satisfied with my work. Good day to you!
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