Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
I'm with stupid - constantly
If any one of you is out and about this summer and happens to run across one of those t-shirts that boldly announces “I’m With Stupid” and has a picture of a finger pointing, pick one up for me, will you? One stipulation, though – the finger must not be pointing left or right, to indicate the poor sod next to you, but rather pointing up, to indicate the poor sod wearing it. If you find such a shirt, pass it along, and I shall wear it with pride. Because I really do think I’m becoming stupid.
This is quite something for me to admit. I have always prided myself on being not only a smart person, but a clever person. Quick-thinking, fast on my feet, ready with an answer. I went to university and have a stunning piece of paper, its whereabouts currently unknown, that announces to the world that, like the Scarecrow, I do indeed have a brain. I’ve even had an MRI done on my head – I’ve seen my brain! What I’d like to know is, when did it stop functioning?
My concern stems from the fact that, late last summer, I had an interview with the school bus company for which I work for a full-time, demanding job in the charter department. I didn’t get the job (it went to somebody internally) but I did feel pretty chuffed with myself nonetheless. I’d basically been “off the market” for about 10 years – the time since I’d had my first child. Oh, I’d worked since four weeks after her birth, but I always managed to keep myself busy with piano lessons, English lessons, freelance writing and the like. When we moved back to Canada from Switzerland, I managed to get a job in retail pretty quickly (they don’t require degrees in rocket science), but this was my first “real” job interview in quite awhile. And I came out of the experience very impressed with myself. The bus company must have been impressed too, because not long thereafter I did manage to land the almost equally demanding job of afternoon dispatcher. I was daunted by the task – dispatch was the last job in the world I’d wanted there, but I took it on, and it hasn’t turned out to be nearly as horrid as I thought it might. I, however, have NOT turned out as I thought I might.
My job not only entails recording the comings and goings of some 230-odd buses throughout the GTA, but also the schedules and bookings for all the drivers of these buses.
But sometimes it seems as if I just don’t get it. I should be able to fit all these buses and routes and drivers together like an intricate puzzle, but I always feel as though I’m missing a piece. I’ll fret for an hour over a route that’s not covered, only to have a colleague come along and say: “Oh yeah, just put this person here, this person on here, and move this person here.” Duh. Why didn’t I think of that? It’s so embarrassing. And it’s happened more than once.
I’m having trouble understanding why I’m just not as quick with an answer as I used to be, as on the ball. Why are things just not clicking as I feel they should? Why am I looking to others to urge me along to the solution? I fear I’ve let my employers down, that I sold them a defective bill of goods. I sold them the sun, moon and stars, someone equal to the task and better. And all they got was stupid.
My educated brain argues with this notion. “You can’t be stupid,” it says confidently. “Why, you stayed awake for three hours last night revising household budgets, figuring out a weeks’ worth of events, building grocery and to-do lists, and trying to get the songs you heard at the Glee concert in the correct order of appearance. And you succeeded! Plus, you organized the girls’ lunches, set up meal plans for the week, and had a scintillating, although one-sided, theological argument with your father-in-law. And you won! You are definitely NOT stupid!”
My husband has informed me that I’m not stupid. I may look it sometimes, he says, but I’m not stupid. Thanks, hon…
I’m just not convinced. Is it the remnants of what they call “baby brain”, that funny haze that accompanies pregnant and new moms? That’s supposed to disappear after a year or so. Did I get blessed with a neverending case? Is it age? I turned 40 in October. I was excited about it, but is this what I have to look forward to? Failing eyesight and bubble-headedness? Did I curse myself when I chose my column title? Am I finally living up to my hair colour? I’ve gotten away with being a natural blonde all these years, is this the price I have to pay? What is going on!!?? I do word searches, I like puzzles, I think constantly…why is this happening?!
I have no answer. Maybe it’s none of the above, all of the above, something I haven’t thought of yet. Maybe it’s a confidence thing, although why I’d be lacking in that after all these years I’ve no idea. Maybe it’s the reason I never really had a “career”, so to speak. I can only handle the stuff on the homefront. I’m not cut out for the working world, no matter what a piece of paper says.
Hmm. Well, if being a mom and a wife is the only job I’m truly meant for, then bring it on. It doesn’t bring in the big bucks, but I’m good with working for hugs and kisses and the odd thank-you. Job satisfaction is pretty good, I can work from home, and I’m ALWAYS the boss.
Being with Stupid is looking pretty good.
