Thursday, October 20, 2011

Dirty work feels dirty sometimes.

I need to have a serious talk with myself about what sorts of goals I would like to see achieved, or even attempted, by this body I inhabit. If I don't recognize yesterday as the kick in the pants it should be, then I am truly hopeless.

I had a babysitting gig for a five year old little guy for most of the morning. When I arrived at his house, his father told me the place was a mess and suggested I leave, indicating that a bag with snack and such was already packed. I was really getting the sense that he meant for us to leave...pronto. A couple of things to note:
1) I am also their cleaning lady on Fridays.
2) It was 8:15 in the morning...seriously, where were we going?

He then mentioned that I could drop his son off to him at work after 11:30. A couple of things to note:
1) Seriously, where were we going to kill three hours?
2) His place of employment is the preschool classroom I worked in two years ago that gave me all sorts of anxiety filled and unfuzzy feelings.

My little friend seemed to be looking for something on the floor, so I picked up most of the playroom before dad had even left. We then went to look for something else in the living room, that was mostly clutter free (from the floor's perspective) by 8:40. We decided to just play, as he really seemed to be enjoying himself.

At 11:30, we left for the drop-off. On the ride over I started to realize the reality that I was going to have to face the uber-woman at preschool, along with who knows how many other former coworkers! Shit! I did not have time to conjure up a decent storyline for myself. No time to call in the spin-doctors to make what I have done with myself in the two years since leaving that job seem full of merit.

**Note: I do not think the uber-woman sets out to judge. She is just so self-confident and comfortable in her own skin, and good at what she does that someone like me is rendered a helpless babbling idiot.**

After the little guy knocked on the closed classroom door, I could hear his father on the other side acknowledging the sounds. I took a deep breath. After smiling at his dad I looked over at a young woman I had never seen before. the next person to come into view was someone else I had never seen before. I felt socially awkward. In the next second father was walking towards me sort of backing me out of the door and closing it part way behind him. His son started to protest from the classroom, but dad pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket to settle up from the babysitting and two past weeks of housecleaning. Seriously? Right there? Right then? In the hall? I didn't deliver crack, I dropped off his child. My own awkward vibes started to commingle with his apparently awkward vibes, mixed with confusion over what on earth he felt awkward about. (Or had my ability to read people just completely collapsed?) He just handed me a bunch of bills and said we could work out later if he was ahead or behind. Then it all just felt so shady. All I could think was "What the f*ck am I doing?" I did not have henchmen with me, as I am not a loan shark either!

The classroom door closed, and I was just minutes from ducking past the two women at the front desk and into the safety of my car.

Then I saw a familiar friendly face...and she asked me if I had a vacuum cleaner..."yes, two"...because hers had died. A couple of things to note:
1) She is one of those really talented people who is also amazing at her job.
2) She had called me in to vacuum her whole house over the summer as she got ready to host a big family party.

She said she might call me again if she didn't get a new one soon. Great. Maybe we could meet in an alley for me to pick up my pay.

In more chin lifting news, I reached my latest goal of 75 followers today. I guess to celebrate I move the mark to 100?


  1. Uhmmm, that does sound strange. Has this man acted odd before? Sounds kind of shady to me

  2. Sounds like you needed to check the basement for a body

  3. It was good he paid you and all, but I think he could have found a more appropriate way to do so. I worked at a preschool one summer in college and it was really hard, there was no way I would ever be able to do it again.

  4. Tell him he owes you an extra $200 for being weird. Either he will pay you or fire you. Either way it seems like a win to me.

  5. I'm turning into a follower addict, I so close to 400 I can taste it. Color me jealous those peeps that have a thousand followers and have been blogging a year.

  6. Ok I just mov4d you up to 80 Followers! I found you on the Friday over 40 Follow thingy. I started with this post, then trying to figure out where you were going I continued to read post after post and you got me hooked! If a blog makes me read more than one post I know it's a goodie.
    So there, aren't you honored now? :)

  7. Hopping over from Follow Friday. Just reading your story made me feel creepy--I can't imagine living it. Sounds like something is definitely up with that guy.

  8. The comment above is me--I didn't realize my husband had left his account open.

  9. New reader here, like what I see! I agree that the dad was kooky the way he paid you-- sigh.

    I used to work in a paint-your-own pottery place. My friend from college (who married a very wealthy guy) called me up to ask me about having a party there. The more she talked, the more I thought I was invited to her fun little soiree. Then it became painfully clear that she wanted me to **WORK** her party. Because I was a good painter/ teacher/ worker and she was, well, rich.

    I did not go to her party, nor work her party because I happened to be busy-- I was invited to go on a week-long vacation to Ireland (yes, the country) with another friend. THANK GOD! and Ireland was fabulous! (But I still mope and am filled with angst when I think about the whole almost pottery-party scenario.)


  10. Hmmm... if your spidey-sense was tingling, there was a reason! I would be a little freaked out, too!

    I think that you're totally awesome, by the way!