I swear, I’m about five seconds away from drop kicking just about ALL of my students. I don’t think I can physically read another word let alone another freaking essay. The worse thing is that the essays are trickling in from students with their barrages of excuses. It’s tiresome. I think it’s been about two weeks, maybe three, since I have NOT had to read an essay or a research paper. It’s beyond insane. I categorically refuse to read ANYTHING by my students this weekend, so they all better get their asses in gear. Okay, *sighing*, I do have final exam outlines to read…*longingly looking at my lone cigarette that I’ve been holding on to for about three months* I think I’m a lost cause.
I joined the ChickLitChallenge and how much have I done this week? You got it! Not a damn thing. I feel like I need to pack up a few pieces of clothing and book to my nearest cave and just live off the land and write. It might be the only way I can get it done. In trying to survive, teaching 101 and 102 so I can have a place to live and a little bit of funds to help my mom and “others” make ends meet, I don’t think I will ever be happy…or get writing done.
I think today, for some reason, has just ZAPPED me out of any sense of happiness. I just feel angry and short-changed on life.
I’ve had enough counseling to realize that I am to blame for most of this. I could say no, I could shut myself off and away from certain people, I could be pursuing my dreams harder, but I just feel that every time things are at a place where I can HOPE for something good to happen, the WORST, or CLOSE to WORSE thing happens.
I’ve been holding on to this one cigarette here for a while now. I’m not a smoker except for when I’m stressed. When I’m stressed, I can down half a pack in a few minutes. This happens once every couple of years. Back in January, I smoked enough to light and to keep burning a “few” fireplaces.
Every once in a while, I glance over at my computer desk and spot the cigarette and lighter resting between my Latin book and the DVD, Garden State.
I’m gonna stop whining. I know that’s what I’m doing. Whining. Just feeling sorry for myself. Maybe I’ll open up this novel and try to have a go at it.