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[An Eventful Two Weeks]
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I quit my job.
And, I beat Bob in Ping Pong.
I also got my hair trimmed.
And, I said "fucking pissed" in class on Wednesday, when I -- so eloquently -- explained to my students:
when only four out of twenty-one students turn in drafts I get
. . .
"fucking pissed."
Fuck 'em.
Dumbasses. |
[I know you hate these buttons, but . . .]
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I have a negative $180 balance. So, if you're feeling kind, it would be appreciated. Fortunately, I will be starting another part time job next week (so, that means I'll be working around 60 hours weekly), which, unfortunately, will mean that I will start losing even more hair. Yes, Ray's Place -- the lovely "college" institution at the high and almighty University of Cincinnati to which I am enslaved -- is causing me to lose my hair. Literally. I know you folks don't want that.
Oh! How the greedy altars thirst for pious blood! |
[Time's got nothing on me.]
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Or does it?
Swamped with work-related woes elevating my stress levels, incompetent people yanking me in all directions, and unfavorable driving conditions providing excuses for my "students," I am done. Stick a fork in me. Hard. Twist your wrist a few times while it's in there. Please.
This is week five of the Winter Term -- five weeks to go after this. This stint could, possibly, be my last in academia. Though scheduled to teach three sections of English Composition 101 next quarter, I am more than likely going to bail at the last minute. Sure, this sounds rude and all -- making my department head scramble to put professors in classes a week before the start of the Spring Term -- but, as a victim of last minute rearrangements myself over the last couple years, I feel no guilt. I will most likely, in lieu of working at UC, mop hurl and lung butter at the local Seven-Eleven or Stop 'n Rob. I haven't worn a name tag in ages. This will be super!
All this aside, I need to flee and evaluate drafts and journals before my eleven am English 103 class. Joy. |
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