Re-Place the Re-Place-Ment and Re-Place-ME!
As an impulse I stepped to the other computer and turned on the monitor to find the browser had not been closed, so I read the resume.
She's two years older, three inches shorter, and fifteen pounds heavier than I am.
Education is her thing: she's a teacher and shit, so she'll be more involved where I dropped the ball.
I was more focussed on the kids social lives and music and clothes and food and just letting them learn to love me and themselves instead of drilling them every night with their homework. It's the seventh grade, they're smart, and they'll make it without me ruling with an iron rod.
This new girl has the word "Montessori" in her resume.
Fuck a Montessori.
Yeah, I'm choked up. No tears, but I might smoke a daylight cigarette: which I don't have a habit of doing.
Vic took one of my bracelets at dinner last night.
Few people can just reach up and yoink one of my bracelets, you know.
She looked at me with her, "you so know you want me to have this," look.
So this new girl is from the north: they won't have to deal with this winter-depression shit they got from me.
She's athletic: they won't have to deal with this lazy-ass shit they got from me.
She grew up involved in sports, clubs, and music: they won't have to deal with this blue-collar rebelion they got from me.
I bet she can't cook, though. I hope she can't. I hope I don't get dissed after I leave.
Damn.
I told them to start looking.
I'm ready to leave.
I know that there will be a new nanny here with my kids in eight weeks.
I understand that all of these events are beneficial to me.
That doesn't mean I'm not sad as hell.
And jealous of her.
And that doesn't mean I can't be mad and hurt and stuff.
I've got a train wreck of emotions right now.
And I plan on feeling every last one of them.
The excitement, the fear, the anxiety, the anticipation, the love, the rejection, the sadness, the anger, the joy, the humility, the pride, the urgency, the relaxation, the comfort, and the pain.
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I got the rental car for the weekend. Aw shit.
My bosses were telling me all the discouraging things they could come up with about traffic out to Riverhead. Like: all the Montaukers going out for their much-anticipated-sunny-weekend-at-the-beach combined with 50,000 concert-goers.
They suggest I leave at 6:00 in the morning Saturday.
That's just crazy.
Tonight I'm going to see the Weakerthans in Brooklyn at the behest of my d-land boyfriend. He always speaks with my best interest in mind, so I do not doubt that I will love this show.
I feel bad for Sammy Sosa today.
Sign my map, over to the left there, so I know where you cats live.
