Senioritis

For the last month or so, seniors have been working on Senior Projects. This is a tradition at MCI of each senior choosing something interesting to them to devote at least 40 hours to and be able to give a final presentation on. People have built rocket launchers, collected shoes for children in Africa, composed music, designed a clothing line and decades more. They each have advisors and “specialists” who are to assist with their project, but not do it for them. In theory, senior projects are great. Some kids are really excited about theirs and spend lots of time on it. However, because this is a big chunk of their humanities grade, they get out of their English and History classes to work on them more. Some even get out of study hall periods. During these free periods, students aren’t monitored. They can go home, they can go get Chinese food, they can make out in their garages while getting high (I haven’t heard of someone doing this, but c’mon, we know it happens).

This is where I come in. In order for residential seniors to be in the dorms during this time, I have to be in the dorm. All day. Every day. 7:45am to 5pm. I know, I know those are the hours most people work. And all I have to do is let them in the front door when they call? What am I complaining about?

It’s Spring time in Maine. Despite my dear Californian friends claiming the weather has changed in San Diego, it has not. You did not go from stick-figure barren trees to tulips sprouting up like jelly beans nestled in neon green Easter grass. You didn’t forget what your toes look like because they’ve been in wool socks since November. You didn’t get sun poisoning on your arms after spending an afternoon outside because your skin forgot what the sun was. It’s gorgeous. It’s lush. And I have a two and a half  year-old.

“Let’s go for a hike, Mommy.”

“Can we go to the park?”

“What about the bouncey house?”

“No, honey. Mommy has to stay inside so she can let girls in to take naps and fart around on the internet.”

Oh, and I don’t think I’ve mentioned my internet was been down during the day for two weeks. And my wireless printer down with it. This little mini-crisis certainly illuminated my unhealthy attachment to email, Facebook and Words With Friends. So, while this new time constriction hasn’t added a whole lot of extra work to my plate, it’s the confinement that’s driving me nutso. Usually, we’ll trek to the cafeteria for dinner and maybe I’ll hang out with a coworker watching Jeopardy at night. But since the start of senior projects, as soon as 5pm hits, I want nothing to do with MCI. Nothing to do with coworkers and nothing to do with the girls. This is not a good feeling. I do actually like my job. What I may have liked most about it without realizing, is the flexibility that used to exist for my position. With it almost gone, I feel a growing bitterness. And this isn’t the way I want to end the year.

I’ve tried to make the best of it. So far, I’ve sewed three aprons (not that I ever really cook). The house is generally cleaner. I’ve kept up my vacation reading. And, after fixing my internet issue late last week, this is my second blog. If only I could nap. Hey, I’m pregnant, that’s not an unreasonable request.