I'm exhausted. The worst part of being tired, the kind of tired that you can't stop thinking about, is how your eyeballs feels. Sure, there's the bone-tired body-tired where your limbs just sigh when you finally lay down to rest, but I'm talking about the I-didn't-get-enough-sleep-and-it's-catching-up-to-me tired where your eyeballs get itchy and, well, tired. Is there a more desperate everyday-life situation than craving sleep and knowing full well there's no relief in sight.

AND it's Friday. As in, I have social life stuff to do because hi! a girl needs a beer now and again. After Chris and I chill together and go visit this place under the false pretense that I have time to read for fun, I'll be heading up to Lemmons for the Dudes Mag Ish 11 (aka Snake Eyes) release party. Basically, the Dudes on my kickball team make a magazine. $5 cover, Celebrity Autopsy, Hot Atomics, and Devlin's Kids (yes, some Dudes have a band called Devlin's Kids) will be rawking. You should come if you're into irony, zines, rawk, beer, shuffleboard, or shit-talking.

I will then be spending the weekend writing a paper and watching class videos that I'm behind on.

Oh, snap. One of our most ridonkulous students just said, in front of his teacher, that he was just going to make up his works cited page for his persuasive essay. Said teacher said, "Hello, I'm sitting right here."
Student replies, "Oh, I though Mr. (Student Teacher) was our teacher."
Teacher, "Yeah, but I'm still your real teacher. Obviously if you cheat, I am going to tell Mr. (Student Teacher)."
Student, "That's gay." Said it all serious, no hint of offense or knowledge of wrongdoing or deception.

We're straight doomed.


christy said...

Some days I'm all wistful thinking, I really wish I'd decided to teach. Some days, after reading stuff like that, I think, whewwww, I'd be in jail or something if I'd been a teacher, because even all the way over here I'm inclined to literally shake sense into that kid. My self-restraint would have given out by now.

Jaelithe said...

Sweet merciful heavens, I don't know how you do it.

An ex-roommate of mine used to teach in a similar environment, and I don't know how she did it, either.