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 Three Hundred & Eighty-five: 5/28/2024
I’m already feeling tested and it’s only Tuesday! By 4 o’clock I was ready to walk out of the building. I didn’t have the patience today. I didn’t even want to show up. I think I enjoyed my weekend far too much. It was a reminder that I’m utterly unsatisfied with my career. I thought I would’ve found some success with my writings or social media. Yet, here I am still scraping by as a custodian, with no prospects of improving my circumstances.
I’m already feeling these feelings and then I walk into a job that tests my patience utterly, it's enough to make me exclaim my frustrations. It started with finding out that my boss will be at another school so I’m supposed to be in charge. I don’t get paid for being in charge here. It’s above my pay grade to have such responsibility. Then, one thing after another has led to my annoyances. I’ve already had to walk the hallways five times by 5 o’clock. Again, I don’t get paid extra for the additional steps that I have to take.
If I must show up, because they won’t pay me if I don’t, then allow me to be an underling. I’m not trying to be the best of the best. I’m not even trying to be above average. I’m giving my efforts and when more is asked of me I feel extremely indignant. Maybe I’m feeling more of this because I’ve been actively pursuing a job outside of the custodial profession and yet I’m locked into a job that brings me little satisfaction.
I’m hoping that by leaning more into my creative work, I will feel less feelings and be grateful that my job allows for me to be creative. Except, with summer looming I won’t be the same Teal Fairy that I am now. I don’t put as much effort into my appearance and I only do subtle looks. Also, I loathe the summer work. I may have to deal with students during the school year, but I prefer the evening work hours and solitude. The summer changes all of that. Perhaps, I’m just perpetually unhappy in this profession?
I did get to take my downtime, which I used for meditative purposes and working on my current short story. I’m hoping to create a very robust story about a family that makes connections with a dark sided warlock. Through community and friendship they will help each other magically and emotionally. At the end of the day, as long as I’m working on my computer I’m less angry than when I started.
Day Three Hundred & Eighty-six: 5/29/2024
It’s the last week with the students and because of that they have shorter hours. Which means the custodial staff comes in earlier. I prefer my evening hours, but I don’t have a choice when my superiors change the hours. I think the lack of control affects me more than I want it to. Because today I had a little meltdown while I was vacuuming.
It’s been a while since I was literally working and wailing simultaneously. I need to express my emotions, but I didn’t want to get behind on my tasks. So, when the floodgates of my tears tore open all I could do was continue vacuuming while tears cascaded down my cheeks.
Nothing necessarily set me off, I just started thinking about all that I’ve lost and all the rejection I’ve received over the last few years. It struck me like some sort of lightning bolt. Nothing I could do, but take it and rather than suppress the feelings I allowed it to flow through me. Luckily, the building was clear and I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing me. Yet, here I am typing up the events for someone to read.
Yes! This custodian cries frequently. Though I appreciate it. Though I’m recognized by the valedictorian. Though life could be worse. I’m still here wailing as if my world is crumbling from underneath me. I don’t like being a forlorn fairy, but until certain circumstances change I’ll continue to express my feelings while cleaning.
Day Three Hundred & Eighty-seven: 5/30/2024
Well, I had to work outside this afternoon. I now smell of sweat, gasoline, and bushes. Not my normal aroma, but what is one to do? Especially, when there is no choice. The task was done and in the process I lost my eyelashes. I knew this was a possibility because it was above seventy degrees today. My lash glue and setting spray can only handle so much.
It was an interesting way to start a long evening. We are having a continuation ceremony for the eighth graders. Their event doesn’t start until 6pm. Last year they hosted this event during the day rather than hosting an event in the evening. I wish they would’ve continued that tradition, because there were so many people in this building today.
I might have melted outside earlier, so I wasn’t upset when I was told that I wouldn’t have to perform all of my usual tasks during my shift. I couldn’t anyway. They were allowing the eighth graders to rule the hallways as if they were actually graduating seniors. Some will be leaving to other horizons beyond the Denver School of the Arts. While some will be either moving across the street or upstairs. We don’t allow for such revelry for all grades. Why for them?
Anyway, the week is almost over and the middle school students will not be returning tomorrow. I don’t know what I’ll have to do tomorrow. I think I’ll have to start cleaning the lockers. It’s the sign that the semester is fully over and they are a pain to clean. We remove any and all debris from the inside as well as the greasy fingerprints from the outside.
Day Three Hundred & Eighty-eight: 5/31/2024
The students are done! They are done with this academic year. We had highschoolers, well partially. Only the 9th-11th grades and they were done by the time I arrived at 12:30pm. So, I didn’t have to deal with kids running around the building like wild animals. Though, when they are gone then that means our summer begins. Earlier hours, more intense work, and continuous landscaping duties. I’m glad to be free of the student body, but not ready for the summer to begin. At least next week I won’t have to work too early. I’m always the one to volunteer to work the later shift.
I can admit that I didn’t have to put in too much effort. I still had a lot to do, but once I was done then I’m done. I’ve been finished since 6pm, but have to wait until 9pm to clock out. What a shame right? I have three hours to sit and type away. Oh shucks, I suppose!
In fact, here’s a sample of what I’m working on…
The doorbell rang once. No answer. So, she rang it again. It’s a sweet melodic chime, like a little bird with an alto like tweet. She stood there waiting. No one has lived in this house for years, but when she heard that it had a new occupant, Genna Gresham was determined to provide a welcoming basket. She was patiently standing on the front porch with a large decorative basket filled with locally made cheeses, beef jerky, assorted crackers, and a few bottles of wine from Lonesome Vine. The local wine maker wasn’t as refined as one of the vineyards from Napa Valley, but for North Texas it was still palatable.
The old rock house on South Johnson Loop was home to Hilda Thomann, until two years ago. Mrs. Gresham was quite close to Ms. Thomann. Her former friend passed away from a nasty battle with cancer. Genna was determined to ensure that Hilda’s nephew felt welcome. It was rumored that a new occupant had moved in during the night. Small town neighbors always have an eye out. Whether it be curiosity or suspicion, rumors spread rapidly. So here she is, determined to ingratiate herself with this young man to the community.
Her arms were becoming tired from holding the basket and sweat had begun to trickle from her pores. Eventually, she heard footsteps from inside the old stately rock house. Then, the aged wooden door creaked open. Only slightly. Not even enough for her to see the young man’s face. All she could see was his eye. The sun was shining bright onto his brown eye, except there were flecks of green that looked as if tiny emeralds were embedded.
“Hello,” she said with a very strong Texan accent.
“Hello,” he replied, reluctantly.
“May I come in,” she asked, “this basket is getting quite heavy darling.”
“Um…”
“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll just be a moment.” Genna said as she pushed through respectfully so she could set down the basket on the nearest surface.
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