30 September 2004

Her-Graine

I can only describe that as a migraine. Stress, sinuses, Mi-Hye being a complete asshole and calling my bluff so I have to contact the union....it all culminated in my having to call out sick because I thought my skull was going to implode.

And no Tessa didn't call. So I'm still waiting to find out about the job. Trying not to stress out about that. I need to call Eva but I hate to call her without having anything to tell her....Hi Eva, I still don't know if we can rent your house because I have to get the job I applied for, can we call you again in two weeks? Yeah, whatever.

No wonder I'm fried. But I managed to clean a corner of my dining room today, the one under the computer desk. So when I get the energy I can at least write cover letters and apply for adjunct positions at two SUNY campuses. Campi. Whatever. And I'm obviously going to have to do the comma lecture again, and the semi-colon lecture. And the don't put capital letters in the middle of sentences lecture, in some cases. I let class out early last night because I ran out of lesson plan and wasn't feeling well enough to wing it. I need to work that out. Hmmmm. I've got a stack of essays, and judging from where they started from, I want to kiss each and every one of my students. (Except Jason, who comes 20 minutes late and hasn't written a fucking word so far as I know. No draft, no final essay, no nothing. He's about to flunk.) And I feel bad because he's also the only African-American kid in the class. If I'm feeling magnanimous I might tell him that he's going to flunk if he doesn't withdraw, but I might just fail his ass. He doesn't care, doesn't respect me, doesn't respect the class, and it shows and if that's going to be his attitude I don't want him there. No, that's not it, I don't care, it's not even like you can tell he's in class. I just don't want him to waste his money, because I care about passing him about as much as he cares about passing, as far as I can tell. My concern for his classwork is in direct relation to his effort. Which was been zero.

And yet I love it. I love knowing that my assignment for essay 2 was greeted with complete and utter academic horror. Oh God, I'm going to have to think??? This is not a freebie. I'm so cruel. And yet, that's what makes them love me. I could get into this, big time.


Which means I need to get off my ass and write some cover letters. Sigh.

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