november 28, 2001. I'm still not recovering from whatever it is that I've got, and it's sucking the life out of me. Everything drags, from the moment I get out of bed to the moment I get home after school - then I have 2 blessed hours set aside for relaxing, before I have to start the next day's lesson plan. I hate everything. And everyone. I'm apparently failing with one of the high pressure classes and it may be taken away from me. On one had I'm upset & want to prove myself. On the other hand, I could really use the time to recover from the 5 other fricking classes I teach a day. I dunno. I was supervised today and he was very positive, although I was irked that he wasn't aware how far I've come. I think I'm an excellent teacher by now and I'm a bit miffed that no one seems to realize this other than me. I suppose that's the classic definition of 'deluded.' this time last year: the slaughterhouse