I totally almost tore my flesh apart last night because of stress and anger and utter frustration with this concept of “NO TIME!” and this inability I have to UNDERSTAND THINGS.
Then this morning I had almost four hours worth of conferences with my students. I didn’t even bring treats even though I said I might (which means I was planning on it): FAILURE. I didn’t even read all their stuff, even though I tried to. My scooter almost didn’t start this morning and Ryan had the car. (I thank God, literally that it did.)
I showed up to my “office”/slash cubicle I share with two other people this morning frazzled, distracted, and brain dead (I stayed up last night/fell asleep twenty times while reading a 100 page play by Aphra Behn–which I still don’t know how I’m going to relate to my thesis. I literally feel anger just thinking about all the research I still have to do for that paper due in five days.)
I did the conference thing. My students are wonderful. Some question my grades, some question my ability to not give them credit for not following directions. But today we just focused on how to write their really hard papers. I felt exhausted for them. For myself. Still do. Kinda like someone mean is opening my ribs out of my chest and stretching my lungs over my ribs and listening to me scream. (Note: this is an exaggeration based on torture tactics that the Vikings used on their “enemies”/random people they didn’t like. I saw it on the History Channel once.)
Anyway. Came home and wanted to scream again looking at my stupid, no good, very bad paper. And by paper I mean the first two paragraphs of rush writing I did that I will probably have to change anyway.
But then I got this email from one of my students:
I just wanted to thank you for working with my schedule this morning, I was able to get everything I needed to do done thanks to that. You’re sweet.
I’m still stressed. I’m still so tired and on my way to get ready for a championship volleyball game–of all things. But. Why am I blogging this? (The email made me laugh and maybe almost cry. But this is, of course, a result of the new birth control subscription that’s messing with my hormones.)