Dear Diary . . . day by day

Thursday, September 6th, 2001 - The Best Laid Plans . . .

This week has not been going as planned. By now I should be standing in front of a classroom of little kids, enlightening them with witty, real-world examples of practical applications of their lessons. Instead, I am sending my resume to sex-toy companies, hoping to become their shipping clerk. I am scouring Craigslist for similiar opportunities (i.e. office work that has enough variety that it won't kill my arms/neck/shoulders).
No, no, I didn't fail the CBEST; in fact, I passed it with flying colors. But then I finally sat down to find out and fill out what other paperwork they need . . . and then I panicked. Okay, so there's a lot of forms, but that I could deal with. No, it's going to the police office to get two sets of fingerprints - one for the school district and another set for the FBI that gave me pause. I understand why, I really do, and I'm sure I'll be glad when I'm a parent that they go to such lengths . . . but something in me doesn't like having my fingerprints on file with the FBI when I haven't done anything wrong. And I don't intend to do anything that would ever result in having my fingerprints on file with the FBI and I guess that includes substitute teaching in California. Sigh.
Yes, yes, I should've researched this before taking the CBEST I suppose, but I never imagined the process would involve fingerprinting. It wasn't nearly this hard to sub in Indiana, I'll tell you that.
Heh. I suppose it stands to reason that I wouldn't know I had a phobia about fingerprinting until I was confronted with it. Still, it's weird.
Okay, so there have been at least three days this week that just didn't go as I planned. The fingerprinting thing was Tuesday. Monday I met Holly for lunch in SF which was pleasant. Then we went to Zeum which wasn't so much. It looks so damn cool on the website, but we missed the aerial dancers that were performing that day, the circle maze was closed, and the rest is geared towards little kids. We ended up doing karaoke, badly, finding out only afterwards that it was shown on TV screens all over the museum. Argh. And I was feeling bloated, so I watched the replay thinking "I am a huge balloon that cannot sing." Holly sounded good when she was singing "Bobby McGee" right next to me, but on the replay, it wasn't as good, but that made me feel only marginally better.
Walking in the gardens I managed to hit my head on a steel girder (is that how it's spelled?) and fall to the ground, seeing stars. Today is the first day this week I haven't felt dizzy from that bruise. We should've gone to SFMOMA, I know. Next time.
Today I sat down in the morning to write, checking email and other journals first. After 15 minutes, my back hurt. The old office chair that Tim got for me is crooked, and it makes my lower back ache. I think the chair is slowly getting worse and worse too, and today I just had it. I grabbed the credit card and headed for the nearest Office Max.
After an hour and a half of sitting in chairs, I finally selected a nice task chair that was ergonomic and reasonably priced. I took the little tag to the register (where I waited quite some time while the woman in front of me in line had unfathomable delays), only to have to wait again while someone went to look for it. A half an hour later my chair seeker comes back empty handed; they were out of it and I'd have to order it. Okay. So, I wait patiently while this kid fills out the order form (slowly! he wouldn't let me write my own name, address and phone number and he had the slowest-yet-still-barely-legible handwriting I've ever seen!). Then he calls it in. It's on back order. They'd be able to tell me in a week whether or not they'll ever have it again.
Fuck that. My back hurts NOW. I said no thanks, tore up order form (instead of yelling at someone, which would be mean; wasn't really their fault, though they should take that chair off the floor). I went home chairless, though I might try IKEA tomorrow, if I'm feeling up to the daunting task of just parking and entering that store.
And now I'm home. Looking online for a job. Sitting in a dining room chair once again.

Exercise log:
Walking to Piedmont and back again. A lovely, lovely spontaneous shag with Tim.
Writing log:
Will work on Indy guide today. Dammit.
Current Publications:
San Francisco City Guide at EGrad.com. Please note that my original article was twice as long as this one, and I wasn't the one who did the editing. I've already sent in the correction on the date of the Mexican-American war in the first paragraph, which must've been a typo during the editing process as well.
Under the Daddy Tree an article on Nalo Hopkinson's Midnight Robber in Strange Horizons. Warning: If you haven't read the book, this article will spoil all the plot twists for you; so go buy her book and read it first!
I'm currently reading:
Earthquake Weather by Tim Powers
Rangergirl by Tim Pratt
Okay, so I'm just reading the very rough first draft of the chapters fresh off the 'puter, but damn, it's already good!
Bridget Jone's Diary by Helen Fielding
My PO Box is:
Heather Shaw
P.O. Box 13222
Berkeley, CA 94712-4222

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