complaints about work

1. My boss recently spent a lot of money on much-needed “improvements” for the school (reliable door handles, better lighting, white boards, a toilet that flushes, a towel dispenser, a fancy new photocopier, a new coat of paint). All of these things were great for morale – for about ten minutes. Beyond that, there still aren’t enough chairs in the teachers’ office, which means I spend the breaks doing one of three things: teetering on half a chair, standing in everybody’s way, or photocopying things under false pretenses (the photocopier is in another tiny, claustrophobic room, but at least I usually end up in there alone). The classrooms are no better. There are too many kids in them too. And most of those kids seem to be innately compelled to desecrate or destroy anything shiny, clean, or new.

2. It’s March, and I still haven’t been given my tax form from 2005. Things may be more relaxed in Greece, but George W. is waiting. (It’s the accountant’s fault, says the boss, not very helpfully.)

3. Not too long ago, a proud parent whose kid had done well on an exam brought us a cake. It was a big, round, chocolate cake – a very generous gift, but not the most practical thing in the world to be shared by 15 people with a five-minute break between classes, not to mention that we didn’t even have a knife to cut it with or paper plates or forks (I know, I know, in Greece, you eat cake with a spoon). So one of my colleagues suggested putting the cake in the fridge overnight, bringing in all the essentials the next day, and having a proper party. It was a great idea. By then, however, our boss had taken it upon himself to give our cake (our cake!) away – to the cleaning lady.

It’s little things like these that get under my skin and make me resent the fact that I have to work there at all. But something happened on Friday that put it all in perspective and made me realize that I don’t have to work there, I choose to work there. And that I’m lucky to have that choice.