Most everything to be done is on hold or being done by people higher up than I am. The Diocese is working on spinning this. My pastor is on a two-week vacation. We can’t very well merge the kids right this exact moment, and so we wait.
My days are filled with throwing away things that should have been tossed eons ago and shredding. A lot of shredding. A lot of questions as to why this is even here for me to shred, and then I realize it; this was a very bad school.
My nights consist of trying to exit the building as close to 3 as possible, getting into my nightgown, and moving into bed, watching Survivor reruns while I game a little on a laptop or just stare mindlessly.
I sleep better than I have, but not enough.
When I can move forward, I have energy to keep going. When I am stuck, waiting and worrying, I feel anger and frustration. I feel abandoned, and useless. I can’t use my Autistic powers to plan a solution because I must wait.
And in the meantime, we’re on the front page of the paper; below the fold, at least, but still. With a half-true account concocted by the Diocese who is scrambling to figure out just what the heck my boss did before he left. Whatever he did do, as I understand it, it was not exactly what he said he did, so we’re guessing a lot, and the story that they gave is wrong in several places, and I can’t correct it.
It doesn’t matter.
See, the thing is, to me, what’s happening right now is what was meant to be last year. The school I inherited was a bad school, where gossip and malice and the other tools of the devil ran rampant.
We changed that.
But not fast enough.