And some days I wonder why I even frigging bother.

I worked really hard on my last entry, refining it, revising it, keeping it true to myself while (I hoped) as unoffensive as possible to the parties involved. Then I go onto LiveJournal and find out that Q & Pixie are actively enjoying the confusion they're causing.

So, um, yeah. I guess you thought I was serious when I talked about my heart aching. It was just a joke! I wasn't really crying for three hours! I wasn't rocked & grieved and saddened! I was enjoying myself the whole fucking time.

No, really.

You know, it's one thing to not want to feel my emotions. It's another thing entirely to give myself up to the feelings I've been afraid of, and let myself be swept up in a lot of issues I wanted to avoid, and then to feel like a big stupid weepy bourgeois idiot. Because, huh, that's how I feel.

And I guess I shouldn't post this, because it comes off like an accusation. Although I'm not angry - just sad - I'm probably just asking for more trouble.

Last week, 2 members of a 3-person group approached me. Apparently, the third member had refused to read the book and participate in the group. They wanted permission to go on without him. I was unsure of the best course of action, so I stalled. On Monday I spoke to him, telling him that he'd have to do a separate presentation on Friday, on a different topic. Now it was up to me to come up with a topic that wasn't already covered by another group.

Cut to today. It's the end of the period and I'm pissed. Some kids have been shredding garbage on their desks, a full third of the class was noisily disruptive, some girls have been tampering with my attendance records, and I still haven't thought of a topic for this guy. The kid is halfway out the door when I haul him in.

"I have to tell you your topic."

"Tell me tomorrow and I'll present on Monday."

"No. On Friday you'll be presenting on systemic misogyny in the novel."

"What? Are those even words?"

It makes me smile every time I think on it