I’m currently working as a custodian for The Denver School of the Arts. I’ve been chronicling my experiences through social media and this blog post. I put a lot of my own complaints and frustrations down, primarily to accurately portray my true experiences. No filter. There are good days of course. One day, this could be sort of a memoir.
I refer to myself as The Teal Fairy because this is a character that I’ve created. I hope to one day write about The Teal Fairy going back to school to protect those that have the potential to grow and flourish. Schools need more fairies over firearms to ensure the safety of the youth. I also use The Teal Fairy persona as my way of expressing myself creatively outside of the written word.
Thank you for joining me on this journey!
Day Five Hundred & Sixty-one: 3/10/2025
I’m 10 work days away from my vacation. I’m really going to try and not call out sick, but my mental state is preoccupied with the status of my MFA applications and the queries to literary agents. So much of my future is hanging by a thread that someone else has power over. I have to sit idly by and deal with whatever decision is made on my behalf.
In the meantime I’m having to cover up dick pics with paint and remove graffiti from the bathroom walls. I wouldn’t say that I’m leading a fulfilling existence within the confines of my career. I need something big to happen. I’m aching for a change. Something will have to give soon. I must continue on to keep receiving the paychecks that I desperately need. Damn adulthood! Why can’t I get paid to just exist?
At least no one called out today, well I have to be in charge today and tomorrow. My crew lead is covering for the facility manager. I still have disdain for the added responsibility, because there is no monetary compensation to the managerial commitment. Thank goodness there are no events tonight and tomorrow. I can’t say that for the rest of the week. There is going to be a slew of artistic events Wednesday through Friday that will have the building jampacked. For this evening, we only had theater rehearsal that lasted until 9 PM. Another day, another dollar!
Day Five Hundred & Sixty-two: 3/11/2025
Apparently everyone had some sort of misstep yesterday. Noone was immune from the complexities of mistakes in all parts of the building. Though many of the errors were not identical. Except, it’s part of our superiors duty to oversee our work. I should feel micromanaged, but honestly I’m trying to get through each day without quitting in a furry.
Tuesdays are almost as intolerable as Mondays, because the week still feels so long at the beginning. Wednesday, you feel like you’re over the hump, but on Tuesday you’re still looking upwards at the hill. At least I’m not trying to push a boulder up said hill. I’m only sweeping and vacuuming while I’m moving towards an upward momentum.
I’m still so nervous as each day passes by. I should hear news about the MFA applications at the end of the week. The news could alter what direction I take moving forward, it could mean that my writing has potential at a collegiate level. I’m both terrified and determined to hear the news. I want to be accepted so much, but I’m absolutely scared that I’m going to be rejected.
I feel like that’s all I’m dealing with lately. REJECTION. As I’m riddled with anxiety about being rejected from my MFA programs, I’m getting sporadic rejections from the literary queries I sent out for Magick in Montague County. I only need one person to take a risk on my writing. Just one! Can’t that happen in my lifetime?
Day Five Hundred & Sixty-three: 3/12/2025
I’m despondent and unable to think clearly. The slew of rejections are going to affect me. I knew they would, but I still had hope that I wouldn’t be heartbroken. Today before work, I was checking my MFA applications and was absolutely stunned. I thought I was going to receive an email alerting me that they had made a decision. That way I could properly prepare for the news.
Well, the University of Texas doesn’t want me. It wasn’t my top school, but I still wanted to be accepted. It was a chance to move back to Texas for a prestigious program. Yet, they rejected me. My application was “in review,” but changed to “denied.” Not a great feeling. While at work I received an email from the University of Washington, but I don’t have the strength to check it while at work. I’m not sure I want to even see what they said tonight. I think I need to have a clearer mind and heart to take on another slap to the face.
I’ve barely been able to tolerate work, because honestly, getting into one of these MFA programs would get me out of this mundane job. I’m quite over being a custodian. I really thought this was going to be a short-term gig, yet I’ve been here almost 3 years. Will I have to suffer and be here another 3 years before I can ascend into the realm that I want to be in?
Day Five Hundred & Sixty-four: 3/14/2025
I had to take yesterday off. I got news that I was rejected from the University of Washington’s MFA program. This was my first choice and the news sent me spiraling. As soon as I saw their decision I called my boss, letting them know I needed to take a sick day. I was fortunate enough to spend the morning with a friend, so I didn’t completely lose it. Well, I’ve been an emotional mess all last night and most of today.
I couldn’t call out again, I knew that we were going to be short a person, so I wouldn’t do that to my team. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the only other person that needed a sick day. Why is that? Can’t I just take a day off guilt free? This coworker left work early yesterday and called out today. Whilst we have to cover the employee that manages the elementary school. So, not only am I discouraged and depressed, but I also have to take on additional responsibility. All I want to do is cry and cry without anyone seeing the tears pooling in my eyes.
Nothing has been working out and I’m losing all hope and confidence to keep going with any creative endeavor. Especially in this political climate, what’s the point? Can’t I just disappear into the ether like a soft breeze through the leaves? I’d like to fold into the depths of darkness not to return again. So that I can’t stop feeling such pain from rejection and dejection. If I could fall into a slumber so deep, not even the ravages of war would rouse me. I’m not feeling really good about life at this moment, if you didn’t get the hint.
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