My profession

Thursday night my phone buzzed with a notification from a CTV newsfeed. ' North Korea fires unidentified missile. Breaking news.'

I realized that the end of the world, when it comes, will be in an obtuse headline, one of thousands of obtuse headlines that barely register on the panel of my consciousness. I showed my screen to Jessica just in case this was The Headline and then I fell asleep at the same time as the kids sprawled out in the middle of our bed on top of the covers.

The next morning I reached over to my bedside table and grabbed my phone. I swiped through to the various news stories Google has determined will interest me and I read that the missile n question had flown over Japan.

By the time I was in my truck on the 401 I learned that South Korea had shot two missiles to the north equidistant to North Korea's launch stations. That's that, for now I guess.

I have stopped listening to the news on the way to work. This morning I listened to a podcast, interviews with Tracy K Smith instead. I have to listen to the podcast with my phone speakers which aren't that powerful. In this heat wave, with my air conditioning out of fluid I have to roll down my windows, even on the morning commute. The rattling of an old truck engine combined with traffic noise makes it hard to hear every word but I catch the gist of it and no one is talking about nuclear weapons.

What a bizarre experience to be one of this line up of metal containers, each one transporting a faceless body to it's daily destination. All the cars divided into lanes locked in a direction seeking a particular exit.

I eventually made it to Victoria Park and arrived in the back parking lot of the school where our office is located. At 8:40 the lot is still mostly empty so I have my choice of spots. The red brick building is divided on the outside by panels of rectangular windows. All the blinds are closed to the morning sun which is shining from behind me. Gradually the lot fills with cars. Teachers and students arrive carrying their bags of stuff they need for the day. I grab my backpack and head inside forgetting about missiles and nuclear war until my phone tells me otherwise.

The first couple of weeks have been mostly organizational. We moved into a new office so we rolled some freaks around and moved in a book shelf. Spreadsheets needed to be created, forms for schools to request support. My calendar went from blank to coded with events. September filled up and I've started in on October.

I've been asked to do some training with a new colleague. She likes to question the validity of everything I show her. I get frustrated by the fact that I'm working harder than she is so by the end of today I resolved to leave her alone until she takes some initiative for her own learning. I feel like a grouchy old man but I really don't have time to argue whether the software is any good or not.

"I didn't make it," I finally told her. "I'm not selling it but you have to use it because this is what is available to support children with special needs. Despite it's limitations which you have so acutely pointed out after 3 minutes of using it there are many benefits for children!"

"But I don't like it," she said.

By 3:30 I had had enough. I changed my shirt in the truck before heading back on the highway to join the line of metal boxes, another weary faceless body, waiting for the world to end. Going west at that time means the sun pours through my windshield. I want to hear Tracey K Smith better so I roll up the windows and sweat through my t shirt all the way home.Read more