I'm a teacher. It's not just something I do, it's something I am. I can't help myself. If someone asks a question and I have even half an idea about the topic I force them to endure a long-winded and involved explanation of how everything works and why it should be so. If I don't know something, I find out and then tell them. Of course the story-teller in me usually makes it interesting too. Teaching is such an integral part of who I am that when it isn't working right everything in my life feels off balance.
At the end of every year we're given a timetable that tells us which classes we'll be teaching the next year. Last year I didn't get one. They had no classes for me to teach, nothing for me to do. It's not really a big deal. I'm still employed and still getting paid. The department has to find something for me to do. I keep telling myself that, but I don't really believe it. For me, it is a big deal. I've proven that by sitting around for five weeks doing absolutely nothing, simply because I don't know what direction my job is going in.
Today was the first day back at work after the summer holiday. I've felt flat all day because there's still no word on where I'll be or what I'll be doing. This afternoon I rang staffing to query my position and finished the phone call laughing so much I was almost in tears. I've been put back on full time after four years part time (my request so I would have time to study). That's terrific, just what I wanted. The thing that had me laughing is that, according to the staffing officer, I've been transferred to my school as from today. I've been there for three years now and hadn't realised I hadn't been transferred already.
In all that, there's no guarantee I'll be spending this year there. I still have no classes. I still feel unsettled and out of balance because of that.