Forgive me Father as it has been 2 months since my last rant. It’s pretty simple why I haven’t been tap tap tapping on my overpriced (but couldn’t live without it) Mac. Shiz has been going down! It’s nice to jump over here and have my true voice resonate through, as I’ve just done a new blog piece for a reputable teaching website and so I have to maintain a certain level of decorum, and if it isn’t there my fabulous editor star wipes it in. It’s almost nice to have an actual real life human corrector to prevent foot in mouth syndrome, but here, it is what it is.
And its. been. shit!
Ahhhhh there I said it, seriously this is like a digital confessional, and I bloody love it. Even if my Mom reads this and she thinks I’m super uncouth when I swear, but sorry Des, Nikki needs an outlet.
You may be confused as to why I feel like things have been shit, as I have been writing for a while about my super duper excitedness (not a word) to start my new Ass Head role, and I have been. Its been amazing, overwhelming, nerve racking, wrong footing and much more and that has all occurred in the last 3 months. I dare to dream of the ride that I have coming for me as I have already had a staff member badly injured, been on a residential, lost my cook for a week, had the police in, lost 3 pupils, found three pupils, been (extensively) verbally abused, dealt with stoned kids, angry parents cussinng me out in patois, become the kids personal canvass,… yes I work in a school and yes it has only been 3 MONTHS.
All this I was prepared for after all, I approached the school to work there! I wasn’t cute about it, I knew what I was signing myself up for, but what I wasn’t ready for was when our home life was finally getting ready for some working stability, me actually being in a job I wanted to be in. On the third day of my new job Hubz went into work in the morning and left at 11am having being made redundant. No warning. No inkling.
He worked his absolute balls off for this job, sometimes working 14 consecutive days, working away from home, working weekends. Worrying about doing a good job, and by all accounts, its seemed that he was. But when sales weren’t being made in one area, it can effect someone in another and in this case, it was the C-S household that was to be shaken to its core.
To anyone who know’s us, it will come to no surprise that I tried to take charge of the situation, put on the metaphorical trousers, balance our books, see where cuts could be made to make sure that we maintained a roof over our heads whilst simultaneously allowing Hubz the time that was needed to get his bearings back.
I didn’t really feel I could say anything, because I had just achieved the job of a lifetime, I felt that someone was having a bit of a joke, trying to keep us within our station, don’t you dare start having such romantic notions of paying off a credit card!
The more I tried to be mega strong the worse it was. I started to feel guilt that I was at work, and would feel distracted all day checking in on him. Wanting to know how his jobs search was going without trying to put pressure on him. Trying to hide the deflated look when I got home and there was no good news. Realising that Christmas was around the corner. Slapping myself around the face to remind myself that we were not the worse people off in the world.
As always happens when you try to pretend everything’s honkey dory, the plates you are spinning will begin to fall off. It doesn’t matter how many instastories you make about how hilarious you think your cat is or how wonderful it is that Hubz has unlimited time to decorate parts of the house or even trying to find witty ways to make light of the situation.
And when the plates fall off, they will smash:
I started turning into a moody irritable cow as soon as I came in through the door.
I became lazy, after all, I was at work all day, so why should I pick up my clothes
I became slap dash at work, because I felt I needed to get home to check on Hubz then instantly become irritated that I had rushed home
I became resentful of all the time he had to go to the gym
I became a closet crier, because being strong means what you hide doesn’t really happen
I didn’t really want to talk to my friends, and also neglected them because I was so wrapped up in our “poor me” situation
I became riled up by others advise, because they just didn’t get it
Christmas. Was. Cancelled!
And then I snapped.
I went to bed at 6pm on a Wednesday and cried. I text my Dad.
Now may I all recommend you go and get yourself a Carl Cunningham, because the man is just the best. He spoke to me with the right amount of sympathy, coupled with a well needed dash of reality and a good dose of count your damn blessings. He let me bawl, he made me laugh, I could hear my mom quipping in the background and I felt like I was 3 and had fallen over in the garden and there stood my parents ready to gather me up with a magic kiss to make it better.
And not only that by my brothers, Sister-in-Law’s, Bro-In-Law’s all put aside they’re sibling ways of being annoying and rallied around us and kept giving us sentiments of security. Hubz parents did the same for him that my rents did for me, with added motivational speeches, free lunches and days of recruitment consultancy (for free I hope Colin). We all banded together like a big pack.
Hubz rocked, he was his usual amazing self. He kept it together, remained the ying to my yang. He was the real strong one, he kept me settled, met my unreasonable demands, had dinner waiting for me on the table, ran me baths… honestly him being off was actually a good thing for me!
And I’m bloody bloody lucky, because it wasn’t that shit after all.
Oh and after 2 months of redundancy, Hubz has a job, and Christmas is no longer cancelled! Get that Magnum of Prosecco ready, the C-S’s are back in business!