But what exhausts me the most is the endless, shared misery of the 75 or so of us who are crowded into a large cubicle-filled room in the basement of a circa 1975 building on our city campus. The low ceiling, thin partitions, and lack of ventilation noise allows conversations to travel almost around the entire large room.
I sit in a stunted and stagnant stupor during my office hours and listen to this:
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#1: Oh, I'm so swamped. I just took in a set of quizzes.
#3: Oh, geez, I WISH I had time to take the dog for a walk
. But I'm too exhausted. After I finish here I have two night classes at the prison.#4: You're the one who got those prison classes? Shit, I really needed those classes.
#1: You needed those classes? It must be nice. Those were 100 levels, right? You should try teaching the remedial class like I am. If anyone needs a cushy assignment, it's me.
#2: You've got all remedial? Must be nice. Those are capped at 20, right? I have 30 in all 5 of my sections.
#3: Oh, you got 5 sections? That means you get the half-dental and quarter-medical. What I wouldn't give to have those benefits. My littlest really needs braces.
#4: You have kids? I wish I had time for kids. My wife and I have been married just for 2 years and we haven't even tried.
#1: You're married? God, you're lucky. I wish I could get married. It'd be nice to have someone to share all this with.
#2: I wish I was still single. It'd make my crazy hours easier to handle if I had no one to worry about.
#3: You want to worry? Wait until your parents get into their 70s like mine. I worry night and day about them.
#4: Your parents are still alive? God, that must be great. Both of my folks passed away years ago. That's how I got that old Ford I still drive.
#1: I started biking to work
because I couldn't afford to buy new tires for my car.#2. You have a bike?
{continues.}
My niece's 9-year-old son is showing an interest in astronomy. Now you know why I wonder whether it wouldn't be more responsible for me to encourage him to take drugs. Teaching, at all levels, has devolved into a really crummy job, and we now have every indication it's going to get much worse, as all but the very wealthiest move ever closer to corporate serfdom. And just think: probably none of these people have tenure, or may ever even be eligible for it.
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me (lovely if you intended it that way) of the old Four Yorkshiremen sketch.
ReplyDelete(Monty Python's version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1a1wHxTyo )
(no, I don't know how to properly post a damn link. It's Sunday end of spring break, I'm grumpy, get off my back)
I understand that if your office is in the cubicle-farm and you have to have office hours there...you're stuck. Uh...but I do my damndest to avoid these kinds of conversations because they lead to me (a) hating my colleagues and (b) hating myself.
ReplyDeleteRecently a friend of mine was turned down for a job at a SLAC after his on-campus interview. He's never adjuncted. He's all "I don't know what I'm going to DOOOOOO."
Uh-huh. I have to have a biopsy for cancer, dude, and I lose my insurance in August. So fuck you, man.
(See, I don't play this game very well.)
I've been IN that conversation.
ReplyDeleteBut I always just egg them on with more and more insane lies. It's always amusing to see how far someone will go to get pity.
Ah, the Pity-Off! Who hasn't enjoyed an engaging round of the Who's-More-Miserable game? Someone usually has that trump card Cancer up their sleeve, and the game ends there.
ReplyDeleteMisery isn't relative, but sometimes there's a little consolation in knowing that a colleague is a little worse off, because suddenly that three-hour bus ride to work doesn't look so bad, since there's not a dying spouse waiting at the other end. There is no consolation in being the winner of the Pity Off, in making that one remark that leads to stunned silence, shuffling papers, and everyone muttering that they have to get back to work anyway. And it really doesn't make anyone feel better to consider that starving orphans in Third World countries are marginally worse off than yourself. So, do not ante up when the Pity Off begins!
Glad I'm not the only one reminded of the Monty Python Four Yorkshiremen. What you should do, Kent, is pop your head up at the end of the discussion and shout "LUXURY!"
ReplyDelete