I’m sitting at the park under the playground set, feeling like a troll. I’m bitter, hot, and annoyed! Children scream and jump off the jungle gym. Boom! That’s what I here behind me. Tiny feet inches away from stomping my ass.
Alas, I must remain here till 3:45pm. This, Pepitas, is my job. I have gone from mentor/caseworker to summer camp counselor in days. And did I mention we painted the office with a group of white volunteers this morning.
I understand that I’m supposed to care about the center. I see how others grabbed paint brushes, dipped them in sky blue, and covered the dirty walls with color. But I didn’t sign up for this when I began this job on October 15, 2010. I’m not a painter or a teen leader. I’m a professional writer…with a Masters in writing…and experience in leading and supervising.
So why am I here?
I need the check for now. And, though I don’t always loathe my place of employment or the teens I work with, this is not where I should be.
Because I am talented. I am a writer. I am an entrepreneur.
Because I am Sujeiry, 1st Lady of Love.