As you all know, I’ve experimented with plenty of dating apps. And with those dating apps comes lots and lots of weird back and forth. Some of this back and forth happened on actual dates, but post of it happened via the awkwardest forum of all: messaging.
I’ve moved on from the awkward messaging on dating site and right into the awkward messaging of job searching. Since graduating I’ve been using this site called Care.com which some of my fellow child care homies and/or parents might know a thing or two about already. For those of you that don’t, it’s basically a big ol’ search engine for people looking to be a nanny/babysitter and for people looking to hire a nanny/babysitter.
But now they’re turned it into an app, so it operates very similarly to those trusty dating apps I used to frequent. Instead of dudes, though, I’m perusing jobs, and instead of sending messages like, “Hey, whatsup, I like food, here’s all the food I like:”, I’m sending messages like, “Hey, whatsup, I like child care and here’s all the child care I’ve done:”
My success rate has been relatively eh on care.com, similar to how it was on the dating apps. You message a few people and you’re vibing and then they wanna hire me for the next three years, and I’m not interested in anything past the summer since I’m hopefully gonna be a teacher.
This is pretty much exactly how dating apps went for me, too.
So, here I am, still searching for the perfect job with just the right amount of hours that pays me $1,000,000 a day, and employs me right up to the day I start teaching. Standards, people.
As I like to do, I’ve found a few of my the families I have babysat for/nannied for in the past and gotten them to give me some fun hours with the coolest kids ever. Sure, they don’t pay me a $1,000,000 a day, but it kinda is the perfect job. Some days I sleep til 10:30, other days I wake up and make bracelets with a three and a six year old. Some nights I drink and watch too much tv, other nights I drink and watch a soccer game while holding a cute ass baby.
Again: tomato, potato.
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Hi guys, I graduated.
This week I am embodying the spirit of, “I graduated, now what?”
Obviously looking for a job has been on my radar and I’ve been applying to some child careish stuff that would employ me for the summer, as I’m hoping to be a real life teacher come Fall.
I get my licensure results tomorrow, so put positive vibes out there for your gurl.
Aside from my applying for child care things and timidly searching for CPS jobs, I’ve been perfecting my resume. As I’m sure you’ll all agree with me that working on a resume is the fucking worst, you can imagine what a brave soul I’ve been to work on it mere days after surviving graduation. Luckily I’ve employed the help of a friend at DePaul’s Career Center for help on creating a resume that isn’t terrible, something I would never be able to do on my own.
My interactions with the Career Center go something like this:
-I email them an outdated resume
-They respond, “This is outdated as hell, can you please send us something we can work with”
-I email them an updated resume that’s essentially gibberish
-They respond, “This is basically gibberish, here’s what we think you should change”
-I revise it and email it back to them.
-They respond, “Ok, this is way better, but you need to fix the formatting.”
-I try to fix the formatting and since formatting is impossible I have no idea what to do. So, I email them telling them this and asking for any suggestions.
-They respond, “I wish I could help you but I don’t think anyone on earth really knows how Microsoft Word formatting works, I’m sorry bro.”
And that’s where I’m at now. Sitting here with a beautifully written resume with incorrect formatting. I’ve been contemplating whether or not I’m just going to leave the incorrect formatting and hope that the principals reviewing it will be like, “Oh wow what a beautifully written resume, I’m totally gonna hire her even though she was too fucking lazy to figure out how to align all her bullet points.”
Maybe I’ll just send them all a piece of paper that says, “I’M A GRADUATE, HIRE ME!”
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Three days left in student teaching, 9 days til graduation, and -5 days til I have a mental breakdown.
All of this “ending” should probably be relatively exciting considering I’ve been working my ass off for the last two years to get to this point. But here I stand, completely freaking out about what comes next. Getting a degree in teaching probably seems like it’ll make next steps pretty straight forward. You graduate, you get your license, and you get a teaching job.
Let’s factor in, though, that nothing in my life every happens in a traditional way. Let’s also factor in that teachers these days get the short end of every stick.
So, here I am waiting on the results of my licensure retake wondering what I’m going to do after I graduate. First things first, I’ll need to get a job this summer. I take that back, first things first, I need to stop avoiding my resume and update it ASAP. The whole updated resume will probably make getting a job this summer easier.
That being said, if you know anyone who needs a nanny from June til whenever I get hired for a real job, let them know about your girl.
Updating my resume and getting a summer job, but finding a real job via this updated resume and million dollar masters degree is what really matters. As most of you Chicagoans probably know, the Chicago Public School system is in dire straits. If you did know, tell anyone in the Chicago area that you want a job in CPS and they’ll let you know just how impossible it is. I have literally had every professor and advisor I talk to be like, “You gotta work in private school, yo.” and I’m like, “Nah, bro.”
I got my degree in teaching because I wanted to work in CPS, and I’m too god damn stubborn to give up now. Plus, public education needs to be more peoples number one priority.
Most importantly, though, Fuck Rahm.
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Sweating as I write this, writing as I sweat.
All my Chicago peeps reading this are probably also sweating in some capacity. In it’s usual fashion, my lovely city has decided to cover two seasons and coast over one altogether in a matter of a week. To sum it up for all of my out of town peeps, the beginning of last week was relatively chilly and today I am melting into the ground.
As I sit here, parts of me are actually melting. My hair doesn’t look great, either.
The heat wave that is this week has been especially brutal during recess for my pre-k class. For the morning group, it hasn’t been so bad. We got outside around 9am so the body melting heat has only begun it’s journey down to earth. The afternoon group, however, has recess at 12:50. And the temperature at 12:50 the last three days has been HOT AS HELL.
The swings are usually in the shade during our morning group’s recess. So, I’m usually sitting in the chair swing having various pre-k students push me. Unfortunately, the only spot in the shade during the afternoon recess is under some trees very close to the fence between the field and the playground. If I weren’t a teacher of the children playing at the playground the police would probably be called on me for lurking. It’s still possible the police will be called.
“Hello, 911? Sweaty person in sunglasses screaming at children while airing out her armpits by flapping her arms up and down.”
My attempt at being less creepy teacher and more fun teacher is to insist on “Dance party’s in the shade!” These always start with a bunch of kids running towards me to dance, and then after the first song a lot of them run back to the playground because they’re not 80 year old grandma’s like me who need to sit in the shade whenever it reaches over 65 degrees. A few of them stay though, and I let those kids choose the next dance song. I get a lot of requests for “Can’t Feel My Face” by The Weeknd, which is a song very blatantly about cocaine.
Listening to this cocaine love song with three and four year olds is educational best practices.
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I mentioned in my last post that I did a cleanse, and now you get to hear all about it!!
It all began last Tuesday. I spent Monday night making deliciously bland and grainy quinoa with fruit for breakfast. It took me until the last two days of the cleanse that my quinoa to fruit ratio was way off. In the beginning I was eating a lot of bland quinoa crap with a little bit of berries, but by the end I was eating berries with only a little bit of quinoa crap. Ate a lot of soup for lunch and dinner. Sometimes I ate salads. But mostly I ate avocados and raw nuts.
The second worst thing about being on the cleanse was trying to snack in a pre-K classroom. It’s literally the land of snacks. A different kid brings snacks from home everyday, and a lot of them bring either cookies or cheese based products. As you might imagine, neither of these things are on a cleanse.
Cleanse appropriate snacks are:
-Celery with “detox pesto”. Detox pesto is made with cilantro and , as one pre-k student put it, “smells like garbage”. That snack was not brought again.
-Raw nuts, which one child said was “for doggies”.
-Fruit, which thankfully one parent brought for snack. I ate at least 10 pears over the course of five days.
-Cucumber with salt and a little bit of cayenne pepper. I one day I brought this snack I had managed to put far too much cayenne pepper on the cucumber and spent the second half of my day trying to keep my mouth from forming second degree burns. That snack was also not brought again.
The first worst thing about the cleanse was no booze.
When I started the whole thing, I was like five days? I can go five days without booze. I’m a semi responsible human being who loves beer and wine, and basically any cocktail in my vicinity. But five days? I can totally make it five days.
By the third day I was reminded of two things: 1) I have will power (sometimes) and 2) I fucking love booze.
On the following Saturday, my cleanse ended and I decided to ease my back into my favorite past time with a bloody mary. And then another bloody mary. Then I took a break so I could see how my body reacted to this jump back into the boozey deep end. When my insides didn’t melt out of my body, I took it as a sign that my body was ok with me having booze back in my bloodstream.
I also took this to mean that my body would be ok with my eating a lot of mac and cheese while horizontal on my couch.
I’m back, baby.
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Guess what’s been going on with me guys!?
Well, I found out Thursday that I didn’t pass my teaching licensure test so I’ll have to redo some parts before I can actually get a job. I also found out just how slow my professors are at responding to extremely panicked emails they receive from a student at all hours of the day. My solution was of course to have some drinks on Friday. Solution here means that I would’ve been drinking anyway, but I had a wonderful excuse in case I got too drunk.
I cried? I failed my licensure test.
I ate another dinner from McDonalds? I failed my licensure test.
I tried to force people to do shots of Malort? I failed my licensure test.
These of course are all things I would’ve probably done anyway, but it’s nice to have an excuse every once in a while.
I was feeling pretty ok on Saturday, then I decided, “Eh, I feel kind of crappy. Why don’t I go take a nap?” I proceeded to sleep for about 3 hours and then woke up having no idea where I was. It was about 7pm when I woke up and that’s what I knew, “I am fucking sick.” I felt like I was filled with snot and needed to sleep for 200 more hours.
Unfortunately for my family, the next day was Mother’s Day so I showed up to brunch with them looking like not such a happy camper. I eventually got over that I couldn’t have a mimosa or bloody mary and just begrudgingly ordered soup and tea, along with a large salad.
By the end of brunch I knew I was suffering from something no amount of tea or self pity could cure, so I went to urgent care.
Hey! I’ve got a sinus infection!
When the doctor came into the room I told him that I thought what I had was worse than my seasonal allergies, which are terrible to begin with. After examining me, he laughed and responded, “OH yeah. I think these might be a little worse than seasonal allergies!” and then chuckled some more. To which I responded with an awkward laugh and an internal comment of, “Fuck you.”
One thing led to another, and I got prescribed a very large antibiotic. When I say large I do mean that it was a very high dose, but I also mean that it is a very very gigantic pill. We will see if I survive 10 days of taking this pill twice a day, and we will also see if I survive 10 days without drinking.
Let me pause here on my inability to drink right now.
Since I am on this gigantic antibiotic and it is frowned upon to drink while on antibiotics, I have obviously been abstaining. In the past, I’ve spent like 2 or 3 days getting better and then I’ll slowly add more and more wine to my body. This time though, I’ve decided that 1) working with preschoolers and 2) trying to become a real adult, means that I am not allowed to drink while on my meds. Well, at least not for the first week.
In order to help myself out with this goal, I started a cleanse on Tuesday. I meant to start it on Monday, but I spent too much time feeling sorry for myself on Sunday to get properly prepared.
But, the cleanse is another post all on it’s own.
Wish me luck & sobriety.
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This week I began in my preschool classroom for student teaching. As you might have guessed, it’s a little bit different than third grade. I’ve worked with Pre-K aged kids before plenty of times. But it has been quite strange to go from 9 year olds on a Friday to 4 year olds on the next Monday. Just when I had finally broken my habit of needing to holds children’s hands when we walk anywhere, I get put right into a class with a bunch of hand holders.
I went from encouraging children to be independent and work quietly to being terrified when the pre-k kids aren’t making any noise. Free time in third grade means that they’re reading in spots around the room. In pre-k, the kids use free time doesn’t exist because you can’t get mad at them for deciding their best use of time is to draw a mural in markers on the wall or make large towers and then push them over onto their classmates.
When I use my “teacher voice” in third grade, it gave the students the incentive to really listen to me, and so I can stay at that tone all day. In preschool my voice ranges between “obnoxious kind angel”, “Irritated kind angel”, into finally my regular speaking voice saying, “Please just do it.” Not that any of these voice changes matter to 3 and 4 year olds, if they’re not gonna do something, they’re not gonna do it even if you do speak like the tooth fairy. The majority of kids I talk to in my prek class almost always just have the response is, “Uh yeah, no, I’m not gonna do that.” or just blatant blatant avoidance. Or both in some cruel collaboration. One kid has decided that when he doesn’t want to do something I give him directions like “sit with the class.” or “line up” he responds “Oh, no thank you.” and just walks away.
Now, don’t get me wrong. These pre k kids are cute as hell. They all come in in their tiny outfits and try to pronounce my name. Some of them get it and are like, “Ms. Schmiedel can you push me on the swing?” or “Ms. Schmiedel I’m hungry.” Others try their very best to get the name right. “Ms. Schneedul”or “Ms. Sch…skfdjsfl”. But some of my favorite kids decided to just start screaming across the room for me with the lines, “Hey hey I’m over here!” or “HEY TEACHER, ZIP ME!”
But, at least they wanna hold my hand.
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