Wake Up To Full Time

 5 years ago, I started my first full time job. I felt so ready for a new schedule and routine, and ultimately to be in the work force. It took some time to land this job, and at the time felt like it would be the perfect fit.

The weeks leading up to my first day on the job, I was mentally and spiritually preparing for what was ahead, and saying goodbye to open days, a surplus of free time and being a part timer worker and student. 

But as the days turned into weeks, it became to feel quite heavy and hard. I didn't realize the exhaustion of what a 40-hour work week would feel and look like until I was in it! I also had this expectation for myself to 'look the part'. I switched my nail polish color every few days to match my outfit, do my hair and look my best- all this pressure to look like a young professional, but in a stressful way. 

I would think about my dear sister a lot, she had worked at the same preschool only 4 years prior. Just that thought helped me, as I remember hearing some of the ins and outs from her time there, and her famous line before work, 'another day, another dollar.' I could understand all that she was referring to- the people, the drama, the annoyance, the tiredness. 

I felt like it was a big shift for me, not just mentally. I had studied something totally different from the ECD route in undergrad, and had worked with students academically and in tutoring, so it felt like not a lot of cross over for me. I would try to add in my own spin on things and language to keep my spirits up and stay inspired. This would look like interacting with the children and learning about their native language or sharing in the things I knew. 

Overtime as well, I saw how unhappy people were- all the drama, gossiping and slandering abound, it felt like there was no joy and it was rotten underneath it all. The outside felt nice and shiny, but I knew it was a facade as well as fake smiles as I passed by teachers' rooms or casually talked with them. 

I worked really well with 2 teachers in their classrooms and got along well and felt understood. That was an oasis as everything else felt extremely hard, unnatural and like I was always doing something wrong and being corrected. 

Later on, as I was preparing my next steps and unsure about the future, I got connected with my friend who was one of the teachers I connected with. She gave me her contact information as I told her my plan that I would be leaving, in the small breakroom that was literally so small, only 4 people could be in their comfortably. As she left, I saw a black bug (don't remember if it was a cockroach or a spider) on the ground crawling to safety, and I thought of it as a symbol, that underneath it all it the place felt corrupt, and toxic. 

I wish I had photos taken from this time, as it was so pivotal. They were on my older phone and then they didn't get saved. I have many memories of eating lunch in my car right near the park and pool, listening to Relevant Radio any chance I could to keep me sane, bringing a book with me to read during the children's nap time, or while on my 10 mins breaks, looking at inspiring Instagram accounts and blogs to keep my spirits up, being in charge of story time at the end of the day and picking out the books, or setting up the audio tapes. 

And I can't forget those bright pink blooms on the trees outside during February. I got allergies from them when the wind became so strong. I also remember just trying my best, and to use my time well. Instead of hanging out in the break room when my shift started, I got out of there as fast as I could to avoid all the gossip and made copies, cut paper, sharpened pencils and filled up the glue for art time while looking at Mt. Diablo and contemplating the hard season I was in. 

While at my next job just a few months later, I would see the same mountain dominantly present near the school and like a painting directly seen from the classroom windows and remember those rough transition months full of growth.