I just pulled a burr out of my left butt-cheek.
Symbolically, that would sum up the entirety of my day. Funnily enough, it actually happened. (Stupid long skirts and their magnetism to spiky plants!)
So instead of calling this day a down day, a low day, a slump, I’ll refer to it as a Burr Day.
1. It makes me think of Brrrrr! Winter! which I cannot wait to experience in less than 3 months!
2. It makes me smile.
3. It could totally work as a declaration of frustration.
4. It reminds me of the 7 dwarfs in Snow White when they wash up for dinner and with each scrub say, “BURR, BURR, BURR!”
5. Burrs are a pain in the arse, literally and figuratively.
6. I’m always looking for some type of euphemism to mask stress, anger, sadness, etc. It’s part of my own personal rejuvenation program.
So I’ve worked for TFHA (Tonga Family Health Association) for nearly three months now; most of the work has consisted of Camp GLOW duties (which, on bad days, I refer to as Camp WOGL, as it makes me giggle.) In this time I’ve invested for the camp and probably because of all my running-around-busy-ness, I’ve been given little instruction and communication for my role at TFHA, so have only used my time to work on GLOW, start a little preparation for other projects, etc. Today I discovered that this is no bueno. In a nutshell, there are some characteristic differences between my boss and I which mainly stream from lack of communication and my entire lack of knowledge in the world of NGOs, among other things that will remain unmentioned.
Oh, NGOs.
Once I switched from working 4 hours a day as a teacher (along with random other tiny projects that required some time,) I landed in a speedboat in a vast sea of NGO competitors. “Don’t talk to this person, he’ll only use you to his advantage.” “She is a great resource, but her boss is a tyrant.” “Never use this NGO, they hate your NGO.” Yada yada yada.
I feel like everywhere I turn, the Soup Nazi (Seinfeld reference) is raising his taunting ladle and yelling, “NO SOUP FORRRjYOOOOO!”
My recent blog entries were entitled some reference to Big Girl pants, and let me tell you, people, big girl pants are Mom Jeans. They’re ill-fitting, make my butt look oddly misshapen, and hit my waist at an unknown level of discomfort. Somewhere in that sentence there’s a metaphor for my feelings.
I suppose on this Burr Day, I realized some things.
My patience has astoundingly improved
• I will forever be tender-hearted
• My blood pressure significantly rises when I’m angry (It was medically proven today!)
• I have a lot more responsibility than I prepared for (which is good, just testy)
• My time for secondary projects will now be severely limited
• The Peace Corps staff/my Program Manager really takes care of me. She’s a rock star.
• I’m getting more assertive (which is great…usually I stammer in conflict and say ‘It’s fine.’)
• The place on my lip may not be a boil...
• but I could have lice :/
BURR. Day.
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