Dear February
Dear February,
In your first nine days of life, you managed to suck the life-blood, hope, and joy right out of me. First I got more joy of the nonsense of Jackass, as if anyone could have forgotten Looser McGee's blunder of the century, then I found out Heather died, and the month kept on rolling.
At some point the damned Sandman forgot my address, and he has continued to bypass my house, and classes started at new prisons. My personal favorite of that experience was that on a Monday I went in and all was fine. On Wednesday, in the SAME pants from Monday, I was not okay. My pants were too tight, yada yada yada, and then I got told that sitting on a desk while teaching is advertising. I'm still pissed about that one. But, I get over it long enough to teach. There was an issue with a student, and I just won't go there. Let's just say that I'll be fine. I always am.
The anniversary of my brother's death came and went, as it always does. I still remember him, I still miss him. But, I do not need to wallow in it. Hence, the person who attempted to cause drama the week of his anniversary can suck it.
There was the person who said my studying history gives me an unhealthy alliance with it. Once again, don't attempt to degrade me and make me feel inferior because you have self-esteem issues.
Yea, February you just kept on coming. I would presume that I don't need to give a list of the job ads that said lines were open and then those schools canceled searches after I paid to send my file to them. Good times. I would also presume that I don't really need to go into another diatribe on rednecks and pickups, their inability to ignore me when I run, and the whole "come on sweet thing" get up in here. Yea, picking up a woman off the side of the ride is A) real classy and B) just the type of girl you wanna take home to Momma.
On that note, February you can now piss off until further notice. Bring on March. Maybe I'll regain some semblance of faith in humanity.
Unhappily and without humor,
Dr. B.
In your first nine days of life, you managed to suck the life-blood, hope, and joy right out of me. First I got more joy of the nonsense of Jackass, as if anyone could have forgotten Looser McGee's blunder of the century, then I found out Heather died, and the month kept on rolling.
At some point the damned Sandman forgot my address, and he has continued to bypass my house, and classes started at new prisons. My personal favorite of that experience was that on a Monday I went in and all was fine. On Wednesday, in the SAME pants from Monday, I was not okay. My pants were too tight, yada yada yada, and then I got told that sitting on a desk while teaching is advertising. I'm still pissed about that one. But, I get over it long enough to teach. There was an issue with a student, and I just won't go there. Let's just say that I'll be fine. I always am.
The anniversary of my brother's death came and went, as it always does. I still remember him, I still miss him. But, I do not need to wallow in it. Hence, the person who attempted to cause drama the week of his anniversary can suck it.
There was the person who said my studying history gives me an unhealthy alliance with it. Once again, don't attempt to degrade me and make me feel inferior because you have self-esteem issues.
Yea, February you just kept on coming. I would presume that I don't need to give a list of the job ads that said lines were open and then those schools canceled searches after I paid to send my file to them. Good times. I would also presume that I don't really need to go into another diatribe on rednecks and pickups, their inability to ignore me when I run, and the whole "come on sweet thing" get up in here. Yea, picking up a woman off the side of the ride is A) real classy and B) just the type of girl you wanna take home to Momma.
On that note, February you can now piss off until further notice. Bring on March. Maybe I'll regain some semblance of faith in humanity.
Unhappily and without humor,
Dr. B.
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