Uh oh. This isn’t good, I just had some sort of temper tantrum. Breathe, in… out… it’s just work, and they’re just people. Piddly little people who mean nothing in the great scheme of MY life. These are just tasks, one into the next, and all a series of never-ending projects, and that’s just the way it goes. Okay, I feel better. It’s funny, trying to slam the door to my office, because you see, it’s not on hinges. The thing slides out, like glass shower doors, from one side to the other. So instead of a SLAM, I get a loud, scraping, slide that ends with a solid THUD as the door hits the other side of the frame. That’ll keep ‘em out for sure!
Okay, started a new class last night, and I swear to you, I am stupider today than I was yesterday. Thirty people, Human Nutrition Science, and every single motherfucker in there felt COMPELLED to tell the class what their children eat. “My kids just LOVE their fruit!” “Mine like grapes, and oh, my daughter loves pickles, but every other day I give them this… and this… and this.”
This went on for OVER AN HOUR. I took a pill, I made comments to keep myself amused, I pulled at my hair, but it didn’t stop. We were nowhere NEAR the topic, and it seemed as if they would never stop, these parents bragging and lying about what they feed their kids, like I give a shit, like this has ANYTHING at ALL to do with ME or the curriculum, so finally, I cut someone off to say, “Oh yeah? Well my CATS only eat FRESH TUNA.” I smiled at the silence around me, and eventually, people started laughing and the “teacher” called a break. Jesus Christ, this class is going to drive me insane.
WHY are people so DUCKING FUMB? I don’t care what your kids eat, and no one is judging you by what YOU eat, we’re just all trying to learn a little science here and apply it in our lives… individually. Next time, I’m having a few drinks before class. That’ll mellow me out.
It was so nice to leave that den of retardation and allow myself to be enveloped in M.s.’s bed. When you need to calm down, go to the zone, and your slave will take care of you. That is, if you’re as lucky as I am.
Now, back to this office bullshit, and trying to open that door as quietly as possible (no can do, it’s just as loud to slide it open as it is to slide it closed), to get some tea and sneak back in. Leave me the FUCK alone. It’s Thursday and I have a temper. I wonder what consequences would come if I posted that on my door? Maybe we’ll see…