Bullies wanted.

I was bullied this week. I went to EMS to watch McKenna play volleyball, and I saw Harry (here’s a public Happy Birthday to Harry!) Harry razzed me about not writing in my blog recently! (Of all the nerve! Does he have any idea how hard it is to find something even mildly interesting or marginally relevant [bear with me, I'm being generous] every day?) He first harassed me via text that morning “I cant read your blog if you dont write anything” and then later in the day, he zinged me again – in person! It was a figurative noogie, nothing less!


When I was a fairly new teacher, Harry and I both worked at EMS. He bullied me into starting my masters back then. “You’ll never get paid what you’re worth, kid, but every raise is a percentage of what you’re making now, so you better get on the stick so you can get paid a little closer to what you’re worth! Don’t piss away your career like Gonser!”

Sometime after McKenna was born, my dad bullied John and me. He harped on us about pouring money down the drain on rent and how we should look for a house.

In the end, I snapped out of my pity party on Blighter’s Rock, I got my masters, and we bought a house. There are times when nagging, badgering, pestering and otherwise bullying someone is the only kind thing to do...or at least I’m going with that when I next irritate John about the basement…