On Stress, Job Security, and Habits That Are Better Than Cocaine

I think I figured out why I don’t post here as frequently as I used to.

I took a quick look at my previous posts; there were a couple in May, and then one in March, and then a few further back. Repeatedly I think, “I should really get back into posting every week” since it’s good to maintain a couple regular habits that aren’t cocaine, and I really enjoy maintaining this rambling and entirely honest peek into the writer’s mind, partly because I can do things like make jokes about cocaine (which is only funny since I might be the most straight-laced writer you’ll ever meet). But even though I want to, I haven’t been, and I think it’s for two reasons. On the one hand, I’ve been increasingly busy with a variety of projects and I’m conscious of not burning myself out, having watched other people who are less careful with their time and energy. But on the other hand, part of my blog is to get my thoughts down concerning whatever’s stewing in my brain that week, and I’m blessed these days to have several people in my life I talk to regularly about life, stresses, the world, etc. I think that’s translated into doing it less here, since apparently I don’t need it as much.

But this blog is more than just a personal journal – it’s supposed to be that glimpse into the very real world of being a writer (since there aren’t hundreds of those out there already) for people who are a) curious or b) trying to break into this crazy field, and think maybe they’ll learn something here (or at least relate). It’s supposed to be a chronicle of an emerging writer trying to level up and make his name, and the pitfalls and insecurities and hilarity that ensues. Trust me, fellow writers, I am still just an emerging member of our community – or at least I still consider myself one, even as I level up.

Which brings me to what I’m really pondering this week, which has less to do with writing and more to do with teaching. I’ve been a high school teacher for six years, and every previous June I’ve been a nervous wreck – not because of final grades or year-end wrap-up, but because at the same time as doing all of that I’ve been applying for permanent contracts and inevitably worrying about EI for the summer and not knowing where I’ll be teaching in September. But this June, I can sit at my desk comfortable in the knowledge that I’ll be back at the same school in the fall – same desk, same colleagues, knowing in advance what I’ll be teaching (a full course load, no less), and even knowing some of the students on my class lists. Or at least I would be comfortable, if I could figure out how to deal with the absence of nerves.

Understand this: getting a job as a high school teacher in Ontario these days is really fucking hard. Unless you teach Spanish or Auto or something equally rare and needed. So much so that when my current principal called me one October morning to offer me my first partial contract, I ignored the phone call because I assumed he was going to say “thanks for interviewing, we’ve gone with someone else, keep trying.” You have to accept a certain measure of disappointment and trial, that maybe you’ll be covering maternity leaves and secondments for a decade before you get a contract of your own, and I didn’t realize how much that certainty was a part of my life until I sat down last week with my full-time, 100% contract knowing that I don’t need to worry, at least right now (even the odds of being surplused are slim, since I work at a big school). And it’s weird.

Of course, here I am musing on the fact that I’m uncomfortable with my newfound job security (“thanks, asshole,” I hear people saying). But I’m sure anyone who lives or has lived from temporary position to temporary position will understand. Or someone who’s spent years as a photojournalist in a war-torn country, or working with street kids in Honduras, or in a dysfunctional relationship: when stress is a regular part of your life, it’s odd figuring out how to live without that stress.

Maybe that’s why I feel the energy to blog today. It also might be why my friend Marie says I look tired. Having stress disappear can take as much of a toll as the stress itself, she says. Not that I need something stressful to fill the void – that would make me a masochist or something, and that can’t be good.

Suffice it to say: no stress lasts forever. Work hard and you’ll get where you want or need to be (or some other cliched turn of phrase) though I genuinely believe that if you spend your life doing good, the universe will make sure your life is balanced (since life can’t be 100% roses all the time). So keep at it, my friends! And maybe I’ll see you here next week.