The Bureaucratic Nightmare That Is My Life

As most of my readers know, I've had to put on hold my dreams and ambitions for now and suck it up and return to the wonderful world of retail.  With two college degrees.  I don't blame Hubby at all.  Ok, well maybe a little, but it's really not his fault. And I know that.  Rationally.

The real blame can be directed at the professor at my college who oversaw my student teaching.  During that period, I reported directly to two people: my cooperating teacher, with whom I had to get approval for all lesson plans and he pretty much shaped me into the teacher that I will become when I have a classroom of my own,  and my university supervisor.  His role was essentially to observe me (and grade my teaching ability) and make me jump through a million pointless hoops just because he could.  Which for the record is exactly what good teachers are not supposed to do.  My cooperating teacher taught me that. 

My university supervisor - from now on US - would also schedule the 'random' visits.  Not that I did anything differently, but if I was a mediocre teacher, I would have only pulled out the big guns when he was there.  He also would randomly walk into my classroom, turn around and walk out IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS.  And I would have to run out of the room to figure out what the hell was going on, only to find out HE'D GONE INTO THE WRONG ROOM, WALKED ACCROSS THE FRONT OF THE CLASSROOM AND THEN NOTICED.  You can tell I think highly of him.  In fact, I'm not going to call him US, I'll just call him douche-waffle.

You may ask why I am writing about my student teaching in September when I graduated in May.  Well, I'm getting to that.  You see, I applied to a few school districts for a teaching position this year, but didn't hear back from any of them.  Then I went to apply for substitute teaching positions.  And reading the application a little closer than I had done in the past, I discovered at least one reason why: Since I do not have any teaching experience, they want to see a letter of recommendation from my cooperating teacher (who wrote me a very glowing one), and another from douche-waffle.

I emailed him shortly after graduation to get one.  When he didn't respond, I called him.  He said he hadn't been checking his email recently, but he'd get right on it, and send it out promptly.  This was in May. I got busy, and distracted, and never noticed that it hadn't appeared in the mail.  That part, I'll admit is Hubby's fault.  He didn't remind me.  Notice I'm not at fault.  Ever.

Anyways, in the middle of August, I picked up the application for substituting and suddenly remembered that I didn't have the letter.  I sent douche-waffle a very polite email requesting it, as well as a confirmation (via email or telephone) that he had received my email.  I don't think that's asking too much.  Then I got started back in retail, and I got busy.  I waited two weeks with no response, so I fired off another email - less polite than the first, but still very cordial.  This time explicitly insisting that I wanted confirmation of receipt.  Again, no response from douche-waffle. 

So last night, finally completely fed up - school was now back in session, there was no reason he hadn't returned my emails - I fired off a fourth email (I know that doesn't add up, but douche-waffle wanted me to send him an email with my mailing address, even though I had already done, when I talked to him in May). This email was still mostly cordial, but it was also incredibly passive aggressive.  Hubby was mildly horrified that I was sending an email like that to someone who potentially held my future in his hands, but whatever.  Finally, this morning I called him.  Actually, I called several faculty members before I found his number, because everywhere that it was listed online was different and they were all wrong.

Douche-waffle did not seem surprised to hear from me.  In fact, he excitedly told me that he was about half finished and was hoping to get it out in the mail tomorrow.  He's been working on it since May.  He even said so.  As soon as I got off the phone with him, I called Hubby.  When he picked up, I gave him a heart-attack by letting loose a ton of primal noises and yells, as well as quite a few words of a less-than-professional nature.

The man who holds my future in my hands has been working on my letter of recommendation since May, when I originally asked for it.  He never responded to any email where I requested a response. AND HE'S ONLY HALF-FINISHED.  He's essentially had an entire semester, and has done only half of the work.  That's a 50%, which is an 'F'.  Unless you go where I went.  They think that 'F's are demoralizing.  So they give 'E's.

Oh, and yes, I am aware that this is my second post this week, making it the third post this month!  Now I just need five more to equal June!  Whatever, just give me an 'E' for effort and move on.