Pickle Jar Spew- The Ugly

Like in Waynes World “If you’r going to spew, spew into this.”  The Year before Covid, nervous Shaking Woman that I am, I would wake up nearly every single morning and think about school. Lesson plans and pressures.  A student I was particularly concerned about. A parent I needed to confront. Administrators. Duties. More School Shootings. Suicides. My stomach would get upset and I would just spit up.  I got into the habit of keeping a recycled pickle jar around in mornings just in case. Standardized test weeks were a full jar. I don’t know why, but I think of Mario Cart “Pickle”. “Pickle” is what I heard when I played Mario Cart anyway, so it became code for spew. Sorry Garth. I’d wake up fine and then like mixing/churning milk and pickle juice- (blech). Pickle! 

My mission was to stay calm, of course, but it wasn’t easy. Music helped. Warm baths and showers helped. (I read warm baths for anxiety, cold showers for depression). Sometimes warmth did help- lots of sweaters and scarfs at school even on warm days. People who saw my shake might think it from drink, you know, like ‘Red’s got the DT’s’, are wrong. (Or you may be right). But tell that to the 4 year old nervous Ingrid. I’v always remembered being like this. I assure you sober or not I’m nervous.  Just spit now, but Like Cartman around a girl, I spew.  (Pickle) 

Then Covid hit.  Remote learning. More pressures to return to school, more spew behavior. “Thumbs up or Thumbs Down?” (bleech) Pickle!. Either I return to school in the fall or take the “no penalty” year off ticket offered to teachers at  the end of the of the 2020 school year? (Much more on that later). Seeing my nervousness getting worse, I (we) opted for me to take the next year off- no pay, for a year?‽! … pickle!  What are we going to.do? Summer is here, Still getting a paycheck. For now… School was out. We didn’t make the final decision until August.  I was in a pickle. 

And then I’d go to a store. Masks, hostility, confusion, “pickle”.  This time last year, I added to my collection of mostly empty jars- I kept a mini relish jar in my car. I’d listen to the radio- All bad news. I would hear a story and follow it up with school. Global warming- (deniers?! if we only taught more real world science!). Riots- (We still have segregated schools! how can we ever jet justice if we still have segregated schools!?).  College Debt - tragedy . Suicides? (J). Boarder children.  Voting laws- name it, they all are rooted in school somehow.

Listen to music ya say? Same thing.  I always think about school. What’s that you say? I have problems? OCD? A litany of acronyms? Other dis-orders? Probably.  I choose my pickle jars over prescriptions.  You may be right. My pick, not yours. No one, but my husband knows about this. He had to watch my wretched regurgitation. He had to hear the horrid hurls. Every morning. But other than him, I told no one. It’s not something you bring up at say, a retirement party. Ok, I did, and it went just as you would expect. Awkward.

Fast forward one year.  I’m crazy cozy in my cave.  Still nervous, like a Jack White song- I’m Shakin’ .  But it is the weirdest thing- It’s more or less out of excitement!  I hardly ever see a pickle jar now and if I do- it’s more out of euphoria, less out of despondency.  Once I told myself I was NOT a writer, I started writing (too much pressure- so don’t ever call me a writer). No rules, just writing. So keep your red sharpie to yourself. Now I have an outlet.  My crazy head has been freed! Focused. Determined to follow this thing through.  One blog at a time.

I’m grateful for pickle! I probably “should” (don’t should on me!) have gotten help. But I am so excited now-I can’t stop writing!! *Pickle. (Seriously).  This is my head ALL the time. And this is just education. Yea, it takes me ten time longer to write a blog- because I shake and have to type and re-type nearly each sentence. I need to take breaks from exaltation and excitement. But I have the time, you have my attention and I know my direction.

Now instead of having to hyde-(I got pretty good at it- starting young) I dance it out! Another story…. And Write. Truth is- I NEVER want to quit! I Don’t want to stop Shakin’… things Up!!! EVER. VN!!