Redundancy

I was just fired. For the first time in my life. They fired four teachers today, and the person filling in for me today (the last day of the term) was instructed to tell my students that I'm sick. Then I'm supposed to just disappear, as in I have to be out of my apartment in five days.

The company's lost a few million $$ already, and it's so puzzlingly, frustratingly mismanaged that the date of the company's failure will only be determined by how deep the owner's pockets are.

I'm not angry, and, truthfully, I've felt like my whole life was/is being filmed for an upcoming reality TV show. More than half of the teachers so far have been booted off the island. We all collectively refer to the workplace as "the show." I haven't properly written about work yet, out of paranoia - I've been reading a lot of Paul Auster lately, and he fucks with your head - that everything I do is being documented. Like the movie "Sliver," except there's a Korean/wannabee-American pushing the buttons. And he has hairplugs. And still aspires to be a Hollywood movie producer. In the action genre, "you know like Arnold Schwarzenegger type movies."

So I'll be homeless - again. My life keeps on repeating itself.

I know how to say "I'm unemployed." For men, the term translates to "empty hand." For women, "swan," as if they stay at home all day licking their plummage. "Baek su im ni da. hajiman nunmul eopsseoyo." "I'm unemployed. But don't have eyewater." The other man's ricecake is looking bigger.

Wish me luck.

xox