Wednesday, 03/28/07 - 9:51 pm.
My job as a paid instructor is going really well. There's some people I know in the cubicle, and when we're not busy, we talk and joke. WrongGuy is there, but he doesn't show up everyday, which is a bummer, because I have a geeky crush on him. Nothing dangerous. We just make each other laugh out loud.
The cubicle hasn't changed, it's as miserable as ever, and us instructors have been trying to get at least water and a phone line, to reach our bosses. Cubicles for other careers have that, computers and lockers, but the psychology department claims there's no money. Not for that, of course, but Mr. PhD, head of the department, can go on three-week-long trips around the world (he's the one who approves the paid instructors, so I still don't know if I've been accepted! I guess I won't be getting paid this month).
In october, there's the Cathartic Festival, part of Psychologist Week (october 10 is psychologist's day, yay), and we're thinking of pouring our frustrations into a play. It should be great.
I do feel kind of bad, though. There's this instructor in particular, Rachel...she's the most exploited instructor I've ever known, and I've known her for years now. She's winning half of the money I'm making, and her tasks are more time-consuming. It's turning out that I only have to check 75 quizzes, weekly. And I'm not even sticking to my schedule: I was supposed to go this morning, I didn't; same will be tomorrow. If Mr. PhD finds out about all this, I'd be getting the boot. But in my defense, I'm very efficient. I please my bosses, not by kissing their ass, but by doing my tasks the right way and on time.
I have a well-known neighbor, a few cubicles away: Joe. He's a paid instructor, too, now. He walked in this afternoon, and my heart kind of stopped. I'm partly over him, so I didn't go crazy. But the way he looks at me makes me nervous. He was noticing...and touching! all the accesories I was wearing: my guitar earrings, my guitar pick choker, my razor bracelet, my hair. He said I looked different, like I'd done something wrong. I don't know what he meant. He asked about you know.... Joseph, that is. I said we were coming along. Rather than chemistry, I feel tense when I talk to him. I guess I still have some feelings for him, but I can proudly say that now I don't feel threatened by that.
It's time to work, read, etc. Tomorrow night I'll see Joseph (I saw him tuesday morning). I'm enjoying life.
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