Things I Hate:
*The sound of an electric pencil sharpener when I'm trying to teach a class.
*Burned-out teachers who won't retire.
*Yelling at my own kids, or the feeling that they'll only truly listen when I do.
*When people slow to a near stop before they take a right turn.
*My students' misplaced apostrophes.
*Innefficiently run faculty meetings when I know the dog hasn't peed in nearly ten hours.
*When I thought I had set the coffee maker for 5:15, but I actually hadn't, so I have to wait ten minutes after waking up before I can have my first sip of joe.
*My deeply seeded, irrational reaction to some issues surrounding food.
*Having secrets. Therefore I don't.
*Parents of my students who don't have jobs outside of the home, and who insist on hovering around the classroom and my email inbox as though it were a full-time, paying gig.
*The polar opposite of the above. Hello...your kid is hungry by 8:30 because you didn't make him any breakfast. Also...you might want to ask him every once in a while if he has any homework. Just a thought.
*This recession. It scares the living hell out of me.
*The smelly and greasy old man Depression who lurks in my house, lonely, waiting to attach himself to me because I'm sometimes overly accomodating to him. I don't yell at him to get the fuck out of my house the way I should. I hate that motherfucker.
Things I Love:
*When my kids burrow in to me, wrap their arms around me and squeeze.
*One-on-one time with either one of my kids. I don't care what we're doing. I love to be alone with just one of them.
*A fire in the fireplace, hot chocolate, and a book.
*This heavenly town.
*Catching a glimpse of a wild animal in the woods. If I can spot a moose, I'm golden for weeks.
*An earnest student asking a question.
*The greeting my dog gives me when I come home.
*Singing. Loudly. Preferably in to a microphone.
*A great pair of jeans. And by great I mean flattering, stylish AND comfortable.
*Tall skinny cinnamon dolce latte. Mmmmmmmm...
*A well-constructed essay. By me or by a student.
*Spilling the beans on myself.
*Going to bed knowing I've done the best I can do. This is a rare gem.
*My daughter's deep, and very old soul.
*My son's curious, and very new soul.
*Comments and commenting.
How about you?
This is a dangerous post to write.
3 days ago