Waking up for 10:30 feels impossible, which is pathetic because I went to sleep at midnight. Well, I tried, but with my job starting at 4pm or later every day, I’ve been staying up late. Today, 10:30 feels like 6am. I’m apart of a Facebook group specifically for TEFL teachers, and someone posted an ad offering 1€ yoga classes.
Another sign that I’m now a true local: I got a Spanish bank account today. It was surprisingly easy, I basically just needed a passport, address, and phone number. Now all I need is some money to deposit into it…
I get a text from Lindzee who is actually staying in Barcelona this weekend (for once). She’s usually out visiting other countries or cities, leaving me alone with just the boys to hang out with. She’s downtown, and I have a few hours to kill before my classes tonight, so I go to meet up with her.
Mondays. Mondays Mondays Mondays. The most hated day of the week by people all over the world, including me… and my job isn’t even a real job. I’m working 11 hours a week and each day is different, but Mondays are surely to be the worst.
My mother isn’t going to want to read this, but my new roommates are animals and have been partying for about…14 hours now. They went out for most of it, but I woke up to techno beats blaring in the living room. Lucky for me, I can sleep through anything, so it’s not like the music actually woke me up, but just the fact that they’re still going at 11am is astounding. I’m not sure if I should be impressed? I would most likely be dead by this point.
Another day on the grind. Workin’ that hard 11 hour a week life here in sunny Barcelona. NOT so sunny today, actually. An epic thunder storm hit last night and woke me up. This place is just the worst, I tell ya.
Today my first class starts at 4:15, about a 45 minute commute from my house. The metro system here is such a dream that I don’t even mind. In some ways, all these private lessons I’ll be teaching are a great way for me to see the whole city of Barcelona.
I’m feeling pretty shitty about these jobs I’ve had to cancel. I’ve told my Tuesday/Thursday class that I won’t be able to continue, but that I can work this week until they find someone new. They’re surprisingly chill about it, but I still feel awful. I tell my Monday/Friday class and they just don’t respond to me at all. Fair.
Another last minute job interview! A mere 20 minute walk from my place, which is even more fantastic. I show up and it turns out it’s a house, not an office or school. Perhaps this is where I die? I’m so desperate for a job that I almost done care. Upstairs I go. Sorry Mom.
The lawd has blessed me with another job interview this morning. My life is about to become hella hectic though, because I have to move out of the hostel, into my apartment, and be at this interview… all before 10am. I groggily pack my bag, take the fastest, weakest shower of my life, and beg the front desk to let me leave my bag with them for an hour. I don’t want to pay the 5€ fee that they charge for a full day. Hell nah.
Priority 1 today is to meet with my new employer and collect some of the course materials so I can start planning my lessons. I head over to the school early, to get it out of the way in addition to looking as eager and committed as I can. It puts me at ease a little, as the woman who interviewed me goes over more details about the class I’ll be teaching (intermediate level adults) and what I’ll be doing this coming Tuesday. My big first day!!
It’s day 10. I am still unemployed and most classes are starting Monday. Things are looking BLEAK. So bleak that I’ve started considering restaurant work again, which I’d basically promised myself I’d never do again. Especially in Europe. What’s the point if you’re not making tips? You have to be…what? Nice to people who aren’t paying you? Seems silly. But as I’ve said before, desperate times.