Tealful Toleration

I’m currently working as a custodian for The Denver School of the Arts. I’ve been chronicling my experiences through social media and this blog post. I put a lot of my own complaints and frustrations down, primarily to accurately portray my true experiences. No filter. There are good days of course. One day, this could be sort of a memoir.

I refer to myself as The Teal Fairy because this is a character that I’ve created. I hope to one day write about The Teal Fairy going back to school to protect those that have the potential to grow and flourish. Schools need more fairies over firearms to ensure the safety of the youth. I also use The Teal Fairy persona as my way of expressing myself creatively outside of the written word.

Thank you for joining me on this journey!

Day Five Hundred & Thirty-three: 1/27/2025

For once, I’m not completely at odds with Monday. Don’t get me wrong, I still didn’t want to come to work. If I could’ve stayed home plotting my escape from this grind, I absolutely would have. But alas, bills don’t pay themselves, so here I am, clocked in and mildly functional.

Shockingly, the universe decided to cut me a little slack today. Everyone else managed to show up, too. Well, except for one person who called out sick. But hey, that’s par for the course. We’re not exactly batting a thousand when it comes to attendance, but this week, we’ve got a surprise wildcard in the mix.

It turns out that the day custodian at the elementary school is pulling double duty this week. Apparently, he’s attending morning classes and needs to make up his hours by working afternoons and evenings at our school. It’s a slightly convoluted setup that makes my brain hurt if I think about it too much, but here’s the kicker: it means I didn’t have to pick up any extra slack outside of my usual responsibilities.

For a moment, it felt like winning the workplace lottery. Not the jackpot, mind you, but maybe a nice $20 scratch-off prize. Just enough to make you smile, but not enough to quit your job.

I spent most of the shift reveling in this rare balance of effort and sanity, which is a luxury I rarely get to enjoy. Mondays usually feel like an uphill battle with a broken bike chain, but today? Today, I coasted. Sure, I still had to be here, doing the same mind-numbing tasks, but I didn’t have to double as a one-person cleanup crew for the usual absentee suspects. That alone makes this Monday a tiny bit less loathsome.

Of course, it’s only a matter of time before the other shoe drops. I’m under no illusions that the rest of the week will be this cooperative. But for now, I’m taking the win. Tiny, begrudging, and mildly sarcastic as it may be and riding it straight into Tuesday.

Day Five Hundred & Thirty-four: 1/28/2025

I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry when I recount my daily horrors to my coworkers. It’s a strange dance between comedy and tragedy. Like some absurdist play where I’m stuck as both the janitor and the unwilling protagonist. Today, I rattled off a few of the more rage-inducing incidents from the past few weeks, and their reactions were  reassuring, in a “Wow, I’m so glad that’s your problem and not mine” kind of way. I can’t even blame them.

Teachers have their own struggles. Wrangling attitudes, dodging teenage apathy, and trying to shape young minds that are far more invested in their phone screens than their futures. But me? I deal with the aftermath of their mere existence. They wreak havoc all day, and I’m the one left to sweep up the wreckage. I’m not saying one job is worse than the other; we’re just suffering in different arenas. They get attitude. I get literal piss in the trash can. Fair trade? Debatable.

My job is tough enough on its own, so you can imagine my mounting indignation when it’s made even harder by forces beyond my control. Whether it’s the students, their well-meaning but often oblivious parents, or just the general cruelty of the universe. The only thing that makes it bearable is commiserating with others who are right there in the trenches with me. We’re all wading through the same muck and mud, surviving on sheer willpower and caffeine.

Now, don’t mistake this for me comparing myself to war veterans, but I will milk the metaphor for all it’s worth. There’s something to be said about working in a school where teachers and staff have to dodge bullets metaphorically and, in this climate, possibly literally. I haven’t had to face a school shooting yet, but the reality is, in today’s world, you just never know. Anything could happen at The Denver School of the Arts.

It’s a sobering thought, but for now, I’ll settle for bracing myself against the more mundane horrors like finding out what fresh hell awaits me in the student bathrooms.

Day Five Hundred & Thirty-five: 1/29/2025

I’m not a fan of extra work, not because I refuse to take on additional duties, but because every moment spent scrubbing, mopping, or wrestling with some clogged air vent is a moment stolen from my real aspirations. It’s not just about being busy; it’s about being busy with the right things.

Right now, I’m in a bit of creative limbo, waiting to hear back from my MFA applications. It’s that frustrating purgatory where I’ve put myself out there, and now all I can do is twiddle my thumbs and hope the right people see my potential. In the meantime, I’ve wrapped up Magick Caste Archive: Uiree Defiance - Part Three, and Magick in Montague County is in a solid place. That should feel like progress, but I can’t shake the feeling that I should be doing more. Should I turn my attention back to The Teal Fairy Fables? Is now the time for revisions, or should I step away for a bit? It feels like I have too many pots on the stove, and instead of cooking a feast, I’m just watching everything simmer, unsure of which dish to tend to first.

So, when I’m asked to wipe down vents or mop the stairs, it’s not just the physical labor that frustrates me, it's the idea that I could be writing instead. I should be writing instead. Of course, these tasks need to be done, so it’s not entirely pointless, but that doesn’t mean I don’t resent them a little. The only thing worse than necessary work is unnecessary work, and thankfully, in this building, that doesn’t happen too often. There’s always some mess, some layer of dust, some new evidence of student existence that needs to be erased. At least I can take some small satisfaction in knowing that my time isn’t being wasted entirely, just redirected in ways I wish it wasn’t.

Still, I can’t help but daydream while I scrub and sweep, mentally plotting the next scene, the next revision, the next step toward the life I actually want. I’m just hoping that, one day, I won’t have to steal time for writing, it’ll be the main thing on my to-do list.

Day Five Hundred & Thirty-six: 1/30/2025

It’s a bit surprising, even to me, that I can be the more agreeable employee on my team, but here I am, playing that role. A coworker called out today, and since we had an extra set of hands available, responsibilities were shuffled to cover the gap. My duties remained unchanged, but another associate was reassigned to the absentee’s area. He wasn’t thrilled about it. Actually, he was downright agitated, but realistically, it was the most logical decision. I assured my crew lead that if I felt the workload was being mismanaged, I’d be the first to speak up.

Now, do I love extra work? Absolutely not. I don’t embrace it with open arms, but I do accept it with a level of professionalism. We’re a team, and when someone calls out or takes excused time off, the rest of us have to pick up the slack. I expect that same courtesy when I’m out, so it’s only fair to extend it in return, even when it’s inconvenient, even when I’d rather not.

That’s not to say I don’t get frustrated. I do. I have my moments of indignation and irritation, but instead of taking it out on my crew lead, I vent here, in this blog, where I can unravel my thoughts without causing workplace chaos. Sure, I’ve raised my voice in the past, but not because I was asked to take on more work. That’s just part of the job. Until the rules change, I have to play by them, even if that means occasionally swallowing my grievances and going with the flow.

Day Five Hundred & Thirty-seven: 1/31/2025

Another day, another absence. Not exactly shocking. The youngest member of our team was visibly unimpressed with his workload yesterday, so his decision to not show up today feels more like a predictable plot twist than an actual surprise. Honestly, I can’t blame him for wanting a day off. If I could call out more often without guilt, I might. But I’d at least have the decency to give some notice.

So far, we’ve had someone out on Monday, Thursday, and now Friday. That’s three separate days of covering for someone else, and unlike earlier in the week, we no longer have that extra set of hands to lighten the load. That means I get to pick up the slack. Lucky me! As a bonus, there aren’t any events tonight, so at least I won’t bide my time until they exit the building. Small victories.

The one event we did have this week was a creative writing presentation. Something I actually would’ve liked to see. But instead of listening to these kids perform their work, I was stuck tending to the never-ending list of custodial duties, like some tragic background character. It’s one thing to miss out on something dull, but missing a creative writing showcase while I scrub bathroom tiles? That stings. Still, I have to remind myself: I do what I must to keep getting paid.

What a week. What a month, one that’s felt as long as a full century. Between the daily grind and the political circus happening beyond these school walls, I’m just trying to exist without losing my mind. Every morning feels like a new episode of What Fresh Hell Is This? And I am tired.