december 10, 2001. Yesterday it snowed again (and actually stayed on the ground for a whole day this time!) As I walked down the icy slope this morning, I noticed that all the trash containers bore messages from an unknown hedonistic hand, messages of stick figures and others signs of mysterious import. They were all written in the same clear print, which is rather impressive when you think of it. My favourite read: FUCK. Pot. Eat Me. OK You can't buy wisdom like that, not even with real money. Made me smile, it did. On Wednesday I thought that things could only get better. Then they got a million times worse. So I thought, well, they're bound to get better, right? Partial credit. Things did get better, but they are nowhere close to being good. I'm having trouble taking those final steps - I'm okay at temporal control, beyond which many kids fear to tread, but I'm having trouble with what happens when things are irredeemably bad and I need them to get better right away. Recess detention? It may be on the horizon, but I can't bring myself to that point right now. Kids sent to the office? Ditto. The problem is that I need to make an example of one of these kids. I need to string him (or her) up like a Christmas tree so that the rest will realize that I am not to be fucked with. For as of today the brutal truth is that I can be fucked with, and quite extensively. God. What a life. And these aren't even tough inner city kids - just a combined class of rural kids that know they can walk all over me. I shudder to think what I'll feel like when I can't yell for a higher-up to take control, as I'm doing tomorrow. Coldly & dispassionately I wonder if I'm completely deluded about this whole teaching thing. Other teachers tell me that it's the class size, it's my inexperience, it's just the individual kids - but it doesn't wash. I'm supposed to be able to handle it all this year - after all, this is what I'll be doing for a living next year. That I can't handle it makes me numb with horror. Have I really wasted 15 thousand dollars and 3 years of my life getting to this point of failure? Well, even if I never enter another classroom after April, at least I can say with confidence that without the experience of far-away teacher's college I never would've married the Boy. And my marriage, as they say, is a very good thing. Very little else to say about today, as all my head, all my heart & all my back muscles are cramped up about this idiotic class. I'm having JTHM fantasies & you know that ain't good. this time 3 years ago: back when i thought writing essays was hard work