Day Eighty-Two: 01/17/2023
I think there’s a harmed animal in the school. It’s all fun and games to play prey and predator, until one gets maimed. There’s enough blood splatter and droplets to assume that a child has been turned into something small. While other children have been turned into ferocious beasts, hungry for a kill. They’ve stalked their prey and wounded their victim. At least this is my fantasy as I’m cleaning up blood near the eighth grade boys bathroom.
In all reality, some poor thing was having a bad nose bleed. The weather has been frigidly cold and dry. The wintery conditions caused the caverns of the child’s nostrils to become susceptible to bleeding. The ridiculous part of it is they tried to use the brown hand towels that neither absorb or clean anything properly. It was a mess!
The day felt ordinary, but it kept being mentioned that we would possibly have a snow day. How exciting. As a child myself, we never had snow days. Even when the road conditions were quite severe, we still had to go to school. For the first time in my life, I might get a snow day. Well, around six-thirty, the district sent out a message stating that all schools will be closed. I was so excited. I would have another paid day off for the week.
Oh, how wrong I always am. I was advised by my crew lead that we will have to work tomorrow. The administration sent out notices after the dismissal of schools stating how and when we are to conduct ourselves for the day. Excuse me, but didn’t I just observe that the weather conditions were bad? Why does my crew lead need to show up super early? Why do you need to risk the lives and health of the other staff? Oh, to clear snow. Yes, that makes sense, but I don’t appreciate an administrator dictating the staff. So you’re my boss, but if I’m essential shouldn’t you allow for the Facility Manager to make the call for their staff? I don’t appreciate the hierarchy and I don’t appreciate feeling underappreciated.
Someone said, “that’s the way it is.” No it isn’t! That’s how some have made it, but doesn’t mean we roll over and take it! I don’t understand the fire that exists inside of me. It burns and all I can do is act like a revolutionary. Mostly because I’ve been on the other side of business. I know how it all operates. I know when I’m being taken advantage of, it’s extremely rude and I won’t stand for it! At least I’ll do everything in my power to revolt against the injustice I see staring at me. Trust that!
Day Eighty-Three: 1/18/2023
I totally wish I was the type of creature that rolls over and accepts all that happens. I dream of being the sort of person that tolerates all information or shortcomings from authority. Except, I’m not. I’m not docile, and I’m certainly not quiet. When there are things about this world that directly affect me, and if I find those things unjustifiable then I become irate. I become frustrated with the lack of detail and consideration for those of us, that are deemed essential.
I also hate today. I despise January 18th every single year. It is the day that my father passed away. It’s been twenty-four years but every year I realize how much I hate it. If I would’ve had the vacation time I would've requested today off. I would've used today as a sick day. Having to drudge through six to eight inches of snow to show up to a job that I don’t necessarily like. On a day that I believe we should've either had off or shortened hours, has made me feel so frustrated and annoyed with my own life.
I keep trying to remember why I moved to Denver and why I uprooted my life. I’m starting to really doubt this whole process. A friend reminds me that things happen for a reason. Well, do they? Cause all I see is my life is not where I want it to be. Yet, I put myself here. I dug my own grave and for the last year I’ve been trying to crawl my way out.
Today feels as if I was pushed back into the grave, while it’s cold and snowing, and there’s no one here to help pull me out. At least it’s a short week.
Day Eighty-Four: 1/19/2023
To cheer myself up a bit, I spent more time on my hair. I so wish I had the fortitude to set my hair at night, but going to the gym in the morning with curlers in my hair doesn't feel acceptable. Thus, I work with what I have. I went with a late 18th century hairdo and I gave myself a much more dramatic eye. I felt important while cleaning.
Oh! We need more staff so desperately. I’m not what you’d call a workaholic. I only want to put in the most minimal effort if possible. Though, I don’t like leaving an area unfinished. Except, when we have people out for vacation there’s just too much to do in the allotted time. Well, maybe that’s a bit of a lie. If I rushed and tried to increase my speed by fifty percent then maybe I could do all of my work plus the extra when I need to cover another coworker. Yet, we’ve been told specifically not to rush through our work.
I’m curious if the QA was going to be performed today. The QA is apart of Denver Public School Systems, they evaluate and score the schools based on their cleaning diligence. Bathrooms seem to be our biggest shortcoming. Any spec of human waste will be marked as inferior performance. Well, I tried to clean as best as I could, but being short staffed makes it so difficult to fulfill all that needs to be completed each day.
Day Eighty-Five: 1/20/23
I don't mind the snow or cold, in theory. Technically my heart matches the wintery weather. Except, I don't like to walk in it. I can't take my bike out when there's too much fresh snow. It clogs up my chain and makes it impossible to peddle. Also, I get scared of the ice. It's a bit treacherous. Thus, I have to walk the three miles each day. It requires me to wear the appropriate clothes plus carry extra. Just in case I start to freeze. Lately, it gets down to the low twenties at night. My beard literally freezes.
I know I’ve been emotional this week. It wasn’t intended, but my past traumas have come back to haunt me. Ugh! I’m writing this technically the day after because I didn’t have it in me last night.
Literally thought this week was going to be easy. It was a short week. It was not easy, there was so much work and I’m not blaming the kids this time! The spaces weren’t too messy. There were the usual discarded remnants of the day. All I know is that I hope to not experience the same level of emotional turmoil about my job in a long time. Perhaps, it's the wintery blues.
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