Going Undercover Two Years Ago

Hawaii Teacher Detective

 Everywhere I go (especially the office) I am confronted by Richard Brautigan’s ex.  She is at the office, checking in as a sub, she is turning the corner with a bunch of papers, she is putting her hand on my back, reassuringly, when I check my mailbox, looking for new morning mail. 

I refuse to go in the school and help with the academic plan.  It sounds deadly horrible.  All the really terrible choices are clear there.  It is bleak and wearying.  I would barely be able to survive something even remotely like it.  It is amazing how much work is expected of teachers, how much grueling grind in the forefront of working at a school. 

So wearing.  I know how to not be too concerned.  Too tied up.  What is all this?  Al these blasted predicaments.  Do I even know? 

Am I Richard Brautigan?  Am I his follower?  Why did Stan and Susie leave those books with us?  The drama of the classroom is behind me.  These nutty digs.  They become bigger and better.  A real distorted time.  Little and big.

The day, rainy, fuzzy, ill-defined.  Film of the national parks—heartbreaking history and fights, especially with the damned Forest Service.  At least I have a job.  It is a better increment ahead at least.  Any time there’s a glitch, I despair.  Is that what these pages will record?  I’m not sure.  I cannot even tell anymore.  A long way, besides. 

The skimpy day ahead.  I need to maintain a positive attitude. 

Met with Virginia Brautigan Aste again yesterday.  I sort of feel like I need to move quickly in order to behave myself with her.  I might lose my patience or else something else.  But what?  I don’t even know.  The other realm here.  My realm decides my fate.  She repeated a few things.  I should ask her if I should write to Ianthe at least some sort of letter or essay or could our article be that?  I don’t know either.  I don’t know what to do.  Mixing and mashing myself in.