Bitterness. Hatred.Anxiety. Stress.

Yes, those are some powerful words up there indeed. Ah, and just a few days ago, all was sunshine and rainbows and positive. I had a great schedule that looked like it was going to allow me to actually accomplish some mad shit before the Magpie gets here. I was cooking. I was getting rest. I had settled into a doable and helpful workout schedule again. I mean, I was starting to re-enjoy and re-see the benefits of my beloved CrossFit again.

And then yesterday, that all went to shit. To hell in a handbasket. To a place where all I saw flashing across my brain, Stir of Echoes style was "FML." A place where I've spent the last 13 hours of my waking moments in fucking tears. I am trying to remain calm for the sake of the Magpie. Because in all honesty, if I weren't fucking pregnant, then this would just be a crappy deal rather than the all out fucking tragedy I have running through my brain right now. Oh, before I go any further--we're okay. There's nothing wrong with me, Magpie, or the J. I'm sure my inclination toward melodrama might have had you somewhat worried.

So, as you know, this was supposed to be the quarter that I got my course release to make headway on my scholarship for tenure. I'm still in a pretty good position--34/50 MLA pages I need for tenure are in print. I have one article left to write. And the schedule that I HAD this quarter, with TR off would have allowed me to make significant headway  on the next article before the Magpie gets here. Not to mention the fact that I'm more exhausted than I ever imagined I could be in my life. Sometimes pregnancy is like mono. That my friends is all gone. And I'm fucking pissed off about it. My "compromise" for the boss "forgetting" that I was supposed to get a course release, and because I'm the ONLY ONE who can teach an American Poetry class (bullshit--it's not my field. It's so far out of my field it may as well be fucking math), unlike the other junior colleagues who got or are getting their course release, I didn't get one. The three day a week schedule was the "if you're not going to give me the course release I was promised, then I need this schedule to be able to get my shit done if you even care about me getting tenure." And I had a productive week last week.

While there are like four or five brit lit people, there are three Americanists now. I should note I'm the only untenured one. And the other is tenured but I don't think ze teaches a full load. And the other is grad chair, so ze doesn't teach a full load either.

And now we're down to two for the quarter. One has decided that ze needs to enter rehab right now. As in yesterday. And I don't want to be crass or anything, but I'd guess I'd go to rehab during the quarter too when I could take medical leave and get paid for being there rather than doing so over the summer. But fine, whatever. Good for hir. Go get healthy. Except...

Guess who is now the ONLY ONE who can teach hir classes?? Me! Of course! The other one can't because ze is old and has "medical problems" and it's not hir field, so sure, ask the untenured pregnant lady to do it, all the while seeming like she has a choice to turn it down (I did but said I would if other guy wouldn't because I care about whether the students get fucked over or not). Because yeah, I don't already have one course not in my field. Now I'm teaching a whole brand new course that's someone else's in Postmodernism! And seriously, since they're already pissed about my missing fall quarter for maternity leave, how really, exactly can I say no? Not taking the class would have most certainly hurt me in the long run; that would be a major mark against my collegiality: "Remember that time we needed her to step in for so and so and she wouldn't because she was "pregnant"?? Do we want to keep someone who clearly doesn't care about others, the students, or the good of the department?" But, if I can't work on my article, doing the class for sure ain't gonna help me get tenure either. So really, at this point, I'm totally fucked either way.

And worst of all--it's a goddamn fucking 2 hour TR class right in the middle of the goddamn day! 12-1:50! Are you fucking kidding me?? The worst possible class time ever! So now I have FOUR fucking classes--2 upper division, brand new preps not even in my field, and two fucking full survey classes--all four classes are filled to the brim. I have 120 students this quarter. One grad student working on a thesis set to defend and graduate this quarter as well. A conference in three weeks for which I'm not prepared for and now which is going to suck and come down to some last minute writing. And we're going out of town next weekend. Oh, yeah, and I'm over six months pregnant. I don't want to play that card, but it seems so wrong to saddle all of this shit on me in one quarter, while my MALE colleague, hired when I was, got the course release he was fucking promised and is all "I'm already done with my article I was working on!" Good for you.

Not to mention that since I had TR off, weeks ago I scheduled my travel plans and doctor's appointments on TR because I had those days off so I wouldn't have to use leave time. Now, I'm going to lose leave time because I have to now miss class for this stuff which means that there are now fewer days for which I'm going to be paid in the fall. And since I'm an now teaching FIVE days a week, there goes my "I only teach on MWF, please charge my leave according to that schedule" argument which means that instead of the entire quarter being paid for with leave time, I am now most likely looking at losing 4 weeks pay. So there really are any number of ways in which I'm am being screwed over this quarter.

I knew they were going to find a way to get me back for wanting to take fall off, and rather than exploring other options, both my boss and the dean knew that because I'm a decent person and I'm untenured that I'm not going to say "no."

Look, I know I probably sound like a piece of shit here for railing against the colleague who is now in rehab, and I probably sound incredibly selfish and bitchy, but you know, I had a lot of shit to do this quarter and was actually making some headway on it; things were looking really good. Last week I got more research done than I had all year, and now, I'm going to be lucky if I can find an hour a week to work on this conference paper, and forget getting anything else done.

And I know some of you teach four classes and get shit done and done well in fact, so I don't want to sound like a primadonna here, and I think if this were a semester, it might actually be easier--my MWF classes would at least be 50-60 minutes and the TR classes would be 75 minutes rather than 75 minutes x 3 on MWF and then 110 minutes on TR. It's fucking exhausting. Like everything that needed to get done, and was getting done just now got put on fucking hold, and like I said, I'm so stressed about this that just about every waking moment in the last 13-14 has been filled with tears. I cried myself to sleep. I woke up at 2 am crying.

This shit sucks.

Am I going to suck it up and do it? Yes. Will I just spend the entire quarter now crying about it in order to relieve my stress? Probably. Will the way that I view some of my colleagues now forever be tarnished? Unfortunately, yes. And are all of my students now going to suffer because of this because I now will only be able to do an adequate job across the board rather than a great job? Another unfortunate yes. Do I feel bad for my students? Yes. Do I feel bad for colleague's students? Most certainly. At least I'm getting paid (barely) for this. They're just getting fucked.

And I hate to say this because I know that addiction is legit, and yes, I'm glad that colleague is getting the treatment ze needs for hir sake and hir family--I feel for hir kids and spouse--but if it were something unplanned like a stroke, heart attack, or cancer or something like that, then I wouldn't be bitter at all. But really, I mean, ze couldn't find an AA meeting first? Or an outpatient type thing? No, ze must travel out of town for three months for an away program. Or am I just being a total fucking heartless bitch because I'm worried about how the stress of this is going to affect the Magpie, which I think is equally legit. Because it's not like the stress just affects me. I mean, every time I think about this I get a fucking cramp which really bothers me. So yes, we should all support colleague while ze gets healthy, but what about my fucking health at this point?

ETA: I forgot to mention the following:

• Our a/c is broken, so I haven't slept in about three nights because it's been in the 70s, almost 80s, and it's really hot in here, although that guy is supposedly on his way now.
• Our tenant/former roommate in Home City has neither paid us rent for three months, now pushing four, and hasn't  paid any of the utilities since November, a problem because they're all in the J's name because roommate has credit even shittier than ours and can't/won't put them in his name.
• The Treasury department has jacked up the J's paycheck. We needed to repay the GI Bill from this summer when the J had to quit school after the quarter started because he got the full time job. So we were paying that back. The VA decided they changed their mind on the repayment plan and took it out of the paycheck and our tax return. It's paid in full, per the letter the department of the treasury sent,  but they are still deducting the money from the J's paycheck. No one was available at either the VA or the Treasury paycheck department to answer J's call yesterday. Which means until they get this straightened out, and the government is so prompt in refunding the money the owe (it took over four months for the J's paycheck to get straightened out when the fucked it up when he was in Afghanistan), we're losing $400/mo. here.
• The J can't get a hold of the person who is working on our title issue for the house in Home City which, since the title company and the relator fucked up our title and sold us a house without a clean title, which they claimed was clean, we can't even sell the house until the title company fixes it. We've been dealing with this since July 2010. In light of our once formerly reliable roommate/tenant becoming completely unreliable, and in light of the fact that the mortgage on that house could be used to be paying shit off to get our credit back in order, it has become a priority to get rid of that fucking house, hence the urgency. Also, with the kid coming, I'm tired of being worried about that house. I want it to go away. And we won't be traveling as much or for extended periods or with the dogs to Home City anywhere near as often, so there's no need to keep that place any longer as our "home base."