Ever Hear The One About The Teacher Who Got Screwed?

Yes, ladies and gentlespoons, they cut one of my classes. This after them first scheduling me for twelve hours per week, eventually upping it to sixteen only after I went through many humbling contortions; now we're back down to fourteen, and Steve's still almost on UI. And while I sort of understand that it looks good on paper to integrate the six-person class with one or another of my two twenty/twenty-five people classes, the really better option--like, better for the STUDENTS, and shit--might have been, oh, I don't know, perhaps three classes of fifteen people or so each. But TFS doesn't see it that way, because if I still had three classes, they'd have to pay me $1,000 extra dollars this semester...and we can't have THAT! Heavens to Betsy, what a dreadful idea.

So if you wondered what's been going on with me, that's pretty much it. Dealing with the fallout, circling the wagons. Realizing I now can't re-sign with Dona, because I have no money, honey. Trying to figure out how long we can make the spare change I've let build up in our ING account last. Steve has said some brave things thus far about getting a new job, but those may have fallen by the wayside this morning, when he told his boss about our tribulations. So who knows, who knows. (I'd prefer it if he got another job, and think he would, too. But money is money.)

The other option, since we're going to have to do it anyways: Start shitting out trivia questions double-fast, so we can make our August quota and get paid. Keep going. Oh, and Cal had about five tantrums today, ranging in severity: Kicking, spitting, "PWAH!"-ing, throwing shoes, punching me, hitting his head against the back of the stroller because I wanted him to stop touching his Newskin liquid bandaid, or wouldn't let him swing for three hours, or Mom left, or what have you. Language would be very nice right about now, if only so I could tell him how stupid it is to piss off the person who feeds you.

Okay, whine/rant done. I'm off to BodyCombat.

More On The Same Subject

Updates:

While I didn’t get my cut class back per se, I was still able to finagle one more class elsewhere—teaching first termers Film History, something I haven’t done since 2003. I have to come in for two hours right in the middle of Friday to do it, but what the hell: Money. So that’s good. And even better, it’s Steve’s birthday, which I didn’t meantion, because I’m an idiot. So Happy Birthday, Steve!

In other news, I have until Friday the 13th itself to write my Nuites Blanche poem for the Royal Sarcophagus Society. I’m starting tonight, will get even more stuck into it tomorrow, and hopefully the result will be worth something. And on Canadian Idol, almost all the people who got cut were ones I didn’t mind seeing go…except for Liam Styles Chang, whose main sins seem to have been being really, REALLY good and not being white. Oh Canada, will you ever learn that Asian guys can also crack the Top Ten? (Still, this is one of the most color-friendly bunches I’ve seen in a while, actually, overall. And at least the odious, bright white, talent-free Annika went home.)