It’s me! I’ve missed you so much! Sorry I’ve been so MIA since July. I’ve wanted to write…it’s just been a rough couple of months. My old friend Anxiety had returned full force in the beginning of the summer and it’s been rudely stifling my creativity and confidence. Every time I opened my WordPress browser, that persistent little voice interrupted whatever I was going to write to pipe up “This is stupid. You have nothing to write. Why do you even have this website, idiot. Go back to the kitchen! (sorry, my inner voice is a little sexist) Cracker! (and racist).” So even though I can still hear it now, we’re just gonna power through.
Thankfully, I found an super awesome therapist who likes to ask me if I want to “be the next Amy Schumer.” (I wasn’t 100% sure if he actually knows who Amy Schumer is or just Googled ‘current popular female comedians’ when I started seeing him regularly). And I also found Zoloft and Klonopin again. So the gangs all back together for now.
In other news, I have returned to the fourth grade. Many of you have expressed confusion for my recent status updates detailing my exploits in elementary school. “I’m sorry, are you a teacher or something now? Weren’t you selling beet juice last year?” Yes. That is factual. And it was a beet ENERGY drink, thanks for paying attention to my life, mom.
But in a surreal plot twist and one of the greatest ironies in the whole history of Aviva Woolf, I am being paid money to help teach children, sometimes in math! MATH! Me! In elementary school! Of my own volition! Ms. Lets-Just-Block-Schoolyard-Memories-From-1997-through-2005 because they were so awkward and weird.
I got this job the same way I get all my jobs, by overhearing someone mention that employees were being sought out for a position somewhere and I volunteered as tribute. In this instance, it was my friend Mel who mentioned they were looking for assistant teachers at the Jewish school she teaches at. A couple of months later I’m back in knee-length jean skirts, filling out book orders and standing alone at recess. Except this time I’m the one doing the grading. And it feels super weird.
“Weren’t you going into comedy?” You ask. “What happened? Did your parents finally convince you to get a job where you weren’t mocking them in front of strangers at sketchy bars?” Good question. I am still doing stand-up (this past month excluded) and having anxiety about wasting my youth and potential on Criminal Minds marathons every night instead of writing sketches but people need to eat (and by people I mean Whiskey because if we can’t afford cat food he will rightfully murder us in our sleep) so I chose a job that lets me get home at 4 p.m., eat lunch for free and steal routine material from hilarious 10 year-olds.
And if I can help some poor child understand expanded numbers then so be it. God knows if anyone understand what it’s like to fall behind academically at a young age, it’s me. Plus, I get a discount at Staples. I haven’t tried it out yet but I assume that’s why people go into education. And also to buy cutesy adorable shit like this on Etsy.
So that’s all for now. Wait, I did it! I finished a blog post! A+ and a sticker for me! And as an extra credit assignment for you, try not to laugh at this picture of me at 9 years-old, being dressing up as Morticia Adams (did I mention I was weird…?)