4-20-2013

Have you ever made a decision and then found out more information that would make you regret your decision? Like when a ‘friend’ offers you a candy bar and you gladly accept. You devour the candy bar only to find out that your ‘friend’ had ‘found’ the ‘candy bar’ on the side of the road. Thanks ‘jerk’. Well, I had a similar experience, but without nefarious intentions or a bout of violent diarrhea. Nope, I took a job at another school for next year.

I requested a transfer from my school in Nunam Iqua to the school, still in our district, at Hooper Bay. We really didn’t want to leave, but the situation of my classroom caused me to rethink what we wanted to do next year. The number of students in our elementary were climbing but the number of teachers, two, were not. I would have been teaching 1/3 of the school’s population while the other 4 teachers would take care of the rest. For those of you who are not good with numbers, this meant that it would be an over burden for Clay and instead of whining, he was willing to move. This was not anyone’s fault, just the way the numbers fell. So, I felt that I would see what a larger school could offer. My transfer was approved and we thought we were heading to Hooper for next year. 

One of the reasons we did not look forward to moving was because of how we had to move. Moving a household is not an easy task, but try doing it through the US Postal Service. This would need to be done by hand. We had already sent our snowmobile to it’s new home, so our local pack-mule (me) would be loaded down with boxes and shipped to our new home. Luckily, we don’t have any appliances or furniture to move but still, it’s not like I enjoy manual labor. Or even automated labor. Labor Day is something I enjoy. So the thought of having to move this way was making me rethink my decision. And since Monica is all about not procrastinating, I had to avoid her in our house. I spent a lot of time hiding in the shower and bedroom closet. It was probably more effort hiding than it would have been than to just pack the damn stuff. Or so I’ve been told. Whatever, Mussolini. Maybe I enjoy crouching behind the dryer.

But on Friday, our principal ask me if I would reconsider staying if they added another elementary teacher. I lowered my voice to a shout and asked him why he didn’t ask me this two months ago. Before the superintendent approved my transfer. Apparently that wasn’t considered at that time. Which, by my recollection, coincided with the time I asked them if they were going to add another elementary teacher and I was told no. But now, here it is. I knew that if I requested another transfer I may look like a waffling turd. Which is not to be confused with the band of the same name. But I took the chance and filled out the proper paperwork and submitted it again. And it was approved again.

So the blog that I had written about our big move had to be aborted and instead I wrote 600 words explaining how I have troubles making up my mind.  I guess I could have just written 3 words: We’re not moving. But since I don’t have to hide from Monica anymore, I have more time on my hands.