1. I’m mad at you.
2. I’m mad at you.
3. I’m mad at you.
4. I’m mad at you.
5. I’m mad at you.
6. I’m mad at you.
7. I’m mad at you.
8. I’m mad at you.
9. I’m mad at you.
10. I am strangely not mad at you.
Calli woke up at 3:30 for a diaper change. That woke Shanna up. Shanna wouldn’t chill out and let Calli go back to sleep. So I’m up for the day and fiercely cranky about it. Especially because both children are now asleep on top of me after ensuring I’ll get no more rest.
Bitter. That’s how I feel.
Don’t like my current mood? Wait for it… 5…4…3…2…1… There. There’s a completely different one.
Jesus Christ on a Pogo Stick I’d like to be able to have a consistent mood for more than half an hour. And I’d like to not feel horribly terribly depressed. And I’d like to not be so angry that I really and truly do seriously consider keying the asshole who parked next to me in such a way that I literally could not get into my vehicle. (Luckily there were more nimble non-pregnant people with me who could drive.) I was mellow for at least a little while yesterday. In between the intermittent temper tantrums and fuss.
I want my body back. I want my hormones to get off this fucking roller coaster. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I don’t know how I am going to handle four more weeks. 🙁 I’m at this place where I really need help (thank you Miss Jenny for once again rescuing me this pregnancy) but I’m pretty worried about fucking up friendships by asking for help right now because I’m pretty seriously not a nice person. (Jenny is being patient and all but she has the audacity to want to LEAVE THE COUNTRY on Tuesday. I’m going to be screwed.)
Just breathe. Just breathe.
I have been in a flamingly bad mood lately and I don’t entirely understand why. I’m normally somewhat caustic but lately I’m being a total bitch and it’s not cool. I’m trying to monitor my tone of voice but I’m not being perfectly successful. I apologize in advance if I snap at you, I probably don’t really mean it. 🙁
I am so angry. I am angry at all kinds of stupid, petty things. I want to hit people and not in that fun way. I want to scream. Everything is irritating me. I feel like I am almost vibrating with negative emotions. I feel almost psychotic. This is the kind of irrational anger people get medicated for.
I yelled at Noah. 🙁 Ok, so maybe the stuff I was yelling at him about was stuff that deserved a conversation but not my foul language and temper.
I don’t know how I have managed to keep it together with Shanna. This sucks.
I’ve got my cranky pants on, oh yes I do.
I’ve got my cranky pants on, how ’bout you?
We can do a dance in our cranky pants,
And then we’ll go to the zoo.
This bit of dorkiness brought to you by the letters I H A T E N O A H S J O B. It’s a busy day for letters.
It’s awfully hard not to be cranky at Noah when I’m cranky at his job. I know that he’s not happy either so I then feel extra guilty for being a butthead. ARGH! URF! HATES THEM PRECIOUS!!!
Every time I deal with my family they ask me for money. Either to pay for something or just for actual money. In the cases of my cousins/niece/nephew asking for college money I don’t actually mind much because I think that is a worthy cause to donate towards. However I do mind in other cases. I called my sister to ask if we could take her out to dinner for her birthday. Her response was, “Oh good, cause we have a dinner planned for me and I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for me and the kids.” *blink* So that means that a)I wasn’t invited in the first place, and b)that I get to pay for her entire family. I get that I can afford this more than them–I do. But I’m starting to really resent being treated as a walking checkbook. 🙁 My sister told me that they are planning to go to TGIFridays for my nephew’s birthday and Red Lobster for my niece’s. I kind of wonder if they told me just so that I can pay for it.
My uncle called me this morning and told me that he wants to buy a car for my niece and he was hoping that I would contribute money so they can buy her a better one. I told him that given that we just paid for my cousin’s tuition to a vocational program, we are about to hand my nephew money towards his tuition, and we have a trip to New Zealand next month–no, we can’t give them money. He then proceeded to kind of whine about how he can’t find anything within their budget but there are x, y, and z cars that are much better for only $5,000 more. I kind of saw red.
This is a lot of the reason I stopped talking to my family years ago. They’ve done this to me since I was 16. Whatever amount of money I have to live on I stretch. At this point Noah makes far more money than I ever dreamed of living on, but we also have financial goals that are fairly tight within his salary range. We can’t reach them if we support my whole family, which I don’t want to do anyway. Hell, I feel guilty asking Noah to pay for as much for my family as I do.
And don’t even get me started on my mom.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
So we go to Urgent Care and the only doctor available is… the one I didn’t want to see. Farking great.
Shanna’s fine, of course. I got to answer a bunch of insulting questions about whether or not I’m letting Shanna play with bleach.
edited to add:
She didn’t literally ask if let her play with bleach. She was just really persistent in asking over and over about every single cleaning product in the house and whether or not they are locked up.
The fact that making a flight reservation has taken me over an hour. I am getting really pissed off. Now I am on hold being shuffled between various Indian customer service reps who cannot understand me reading off my reservation number as I try to add a lap infant. I am really really frustrated. And after 20 minutes Travelocity told me that I have to call Air New Zealand. Now Air New Zealand is telling me they can’t do anything, Travelocity has to do it.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
And Shanna just woke up from her nap and is yelling. This took her whole goddamn nap.
Edited: I am up to 55 minutes of phone time after 40 minutes of fucking with websites. But I’m done
ants.
my shoulder hurting so that it keeps me awake while Shanna nurses ALL NIGHT LONG. (normally I can sleep through it and it doesn’t matter. there seems to be a protest building.)
waiting an hour and a half to have breakfast with Noah while he sleeps in. I should have eaten as soon as I got up with Shanna.
knowing that people are still breathing who piss me off. (it’s that kind of day.)
my arms hurting.
my head hurting.
stupid piece of crap Wuthering Heights. what a terrible book.
have I mentioned the fucking ants?
my cat getting whiny and needy when Shanna cries.
a variety of people who have hit my shitlist for their stupidity and/or obnoxiousness.
I could go on but I doubt I am helping my mood.
I would really like to post to some of the conversations about the sexism in the dance scene with some inflammatory stuff. Maybe something to the effect of: “Those of you who are saying, ‘Well the dance scene is so much safer than other communities’ are stupid!” BULLSHIT. I know more girls/women who have been raped by other dancers than I know people who have been raped in the bdsm scene. I find that fascinating. I know of FAR more ‘mild’ boundary violations in the dance scene than in the bdsm scene. It is worth pointing out that in my mind the ‘dance community’ sort of loosely enfolds Dickens and Faire as well.
The idea that just because the dancers are a “community” women are safer makes me want to puke.
My job takes a lot of time and energy in a thousand different ways. I have to deal with 150+ diverse personalities every day. I have to prepare material to start with and then later grade it. I have to deal with coworkers, many of whom I don’t like much. More and more kids are coming to me to dump their emotional problems. I’m glad I can help them, but it takes a lot of energy. (‘Nother kid today.) BTSA is going to be a serious pain in my ass, but I have to do it. At least my mentor doesn’t suck and I don’t have to repeat the stuff I did last year.
Having a house requires me to clean and fix stuff. I am supposed to prepare healthy food multiple times a day (yeah fucking right–we so eat out of the microwave). Noah has been doing way more than his share.
The Interloper is *not* being accepted by Puff. Which means that both cats are pissed constantly. This results in Puff hissing and not allowing affection and the Interloper is crying constantly and I am having fantasies of harming her. This isn’t good. The Interloper can’t remain in our household.
TNG Con stuff is starting to come faster and harder. I have less than 5 months until D-Day. I have a big job and people who want me to do stuff above and beyond my job. I want to cry or quit or something. I will never ever sign on for this shit again.
I’m sick of having fucking yeast infections constantly. It burns and itches. It is driving me nuts.
I’m sick of people telling me how to get pregnant. It is getting to the point where I am pretty nasty when people start lecturing me on what I “should” do to get pregnant. I don’t want to have sex anymore. Sex isn’t fun. It seems frustrating and disappointing.
I’m not in the mood to talk about how people interact and why it doesn’t work for someone or what they want to get out of their community. I feel like this problem is being laid at my feet and I don’t want to fucking hear it.
And we need to unpack from last weekend, but when? I get to go to a fucking meeting (oh wait, TWO fucking meetings) tomorrow night. Noah has declared Friday to be a coding night (he’s bloody earned it, that doesn’t mean I’m good at being patient with him doing computer stuff while I clean up after *us*). I’m supposed to go dancing, but it seems like a really bad idea considering the rest of my weekend. Saturday I have to go to a training from 9-12. Then we get to have dinner and go see a play with one of Noah’s fucking legion of ex’s. Seeing most of them is anxiety inducing and stressful for me for no good reason at all. Sunday we are hosting a tantra class and the last thing I am in the mood to do right now is be patient or spiritual or breathe. I’m going to be fussy if people cancel though because it will feel like one more thing to happen.
I just want to scream. If you decide to give me well meaning advice don’t feel surprised if you are kicked off my friends list. I don’t want to fucking hear it. This phase will pass, but I’m fucking frustrated.
Have I mentioned that I hate BTSA? Wow. What a fabulous way to ensure that I *don’t* want to be a teacher.
(BTSA is mandatory for people who have a preliminary credential. It is further training to ensure that we are competent teachers. Near as I can tell what it really does is see who will put up with being treated like they are brain dead. I am so fucking livid at the hoops I have to jump through to have this job.)
I have an ED kid. For those of you who get to live your lives outside the realm of school, that means Emotionally Disturbed. As in: batshit crazy. I’m going to kill him. He is disturbed enough that he shouldn’t be in public school. He disrupts the class with rude, inappropriate behavior. We were having a very sensitive, difficult, touchy conversation about racism and when kids shared things he laughed at them. This is a minor outburst for him apparently. I was livid. This is my god damn advanced class and he is alienating people to the point where they don’t want to have a serious conversation.
This child is not in the right place and I want him out. I just don’t know if it will happen. 🙁
I liked the meme that was “10 things you want to say to people”. I’m not going to pat anyone on the head and say, “Oh honey, of course I don’t mean you” so don’t bother asking for it.
1. Fuck you.
2. I find it particularly hypocritical that you allow me to be in a position you don’t want to be in yourself. Grow a fucking backbone.
3. Wow, you are so being used. I hope the sex is worth it.
4. Grow up. No really, grow up. It’s past fucking time you stop acting like a child.
5. Being prepared isn’t some magical occurance that just happens to some people. You need to take responsibility for yourself and actually get your shit done.
6. I hate you. I would feel kind of guilty for it, but I would cheerfully dance on your fucking grave you stupid piece of shit.
7. Quite whining about the situations you get yourself into over and over and over again. No one wants to hear it. You would be amazed at who all talks shit about you behind your back.
8. Stop patronizing me you fucker. And don’t correct my pronunciation when I am in a bad mood, dick.
9. Don’t ask him to touch you again. He isn’t yours. Ask your own boy to touch you.
10. I’m tired of being nice to you. Why the fuck can’t you do something well and truly deserving of me hating you so that I can stop feeling guilty for it.
Good: my life.
Bad: some of my friends lives.
I’ve recently been talking with an old friend. There is so much drama going on in his life that it is unreal. He had an affair for over a year with a girl 26 years his junior. Now he is going through a messy divorce for the girl. And the girl got mad at him and punched him in the face when she found out that *gasp* he has had sex with his wife during the course of the affair. But it’s ok because he deserved it because he cheated on her. *blink*
I… have no words.
My 2nd period is angry that I am not accomodating their every whim. They are also angry that I wrote a referral for the kid who called me an asshole. They are going to be furious when they find out that he is getting suspended for five days. This morning I was told that I am a fucking hypocrite because I cuss and I don’t let them. There is a big difference between allowing cussing and allowing them to cuss me out. I asked my aide what she thought of the situation because I have a lot of faith in her opinion. She said that I was giving a lot of criticism but I wasn’t being mean or unfair. She also thinks that calling me a hypocrite is inappropriate and that I don’t deserve it because I give them a lot of slack.
The kid who called me a fucking hypocrite is my big black gang banger and he walked in fifteen minutes late and told me “You better not mark me tardy” because if he gets one more tardy then he gets suspended for five days. I told him that he shouldn’t have been tardy then. He of course responded with, “But it’s not my fault.” Of course not. Nothing ever is.
I anticipate the next five-six days being very uncomfortable followed by near brawls in class. There are about four loud, rude, obnoxious boys who are going to be gunning for me. I’m thinking they may just be kicked out of class for basically the rest of the year. Two of them are already failing and the other two are barely hanging on to C’s. With the suspension the guy who called me an asshole is probably going to drop to a low D because he will be missing assignments and I don’t have to let him make them up. We’ll see how awful he is when he gets back.
I have several juniors who are complaining that it isn’t fair that they have to do a conference for the writing assignment due Monday. Uhm, you’ve had three weeks of notice. You didn’t get it done. This sounds a lot like your problem and not mine. I’m ready to stop pushing on the makeup work. I am setting next Friday as the deadline for any and all makeup work and I’m not accepting anymore this year. If you keep fucking up I don’t care. Take your bad grade. That way I don’t have to accept everything from all the kids who are bugging me.
Today a student called me an asshole because I told him that he needed to revise his paper. This is a kid I have bent over backwards for all year. I have let him turn assignment after assignment late. I am done. He gets 0 slack.
Son of a bitch. You DON’T curse me in class when I have been nothing but nice to you.
Luckily, when I explain to 3rd period how angry I am they behave like gorgeous little angels and tell me they love me and appreciate me.
I just sat through a meeting where it was decided that we are going to stop teaching novels to freshmen and sophmores because they need to spend more time focusing on multiple choice questions for the monsterous standardized tests they have to take throughout high school.
They are still debating whether it is worthwhile to teach novels to juniors and seniors. If you have children, I would like you to stop and think for a moment about how you want them taught. Do you really want your kids to only learn how to regurgitate someone elses opinion?
Noah is having yet more trouble with his motorcycle so he is borrowing the car. This means that he dropped me off this morning before setting off to work. I realized about two minutes after getting out of the car and seeing him drive away that I didn’t have my 2-3 minutes to collect myself and get my stuff in order before I got out of the car so I left my badge and my keys. FUCK. This means I have to go through another classroom to get into my room in the first place and I will have to leave my door open all day despite the freakin cold in the morning. *sigh* So my classroom will be below 50 degrees through most of 2nd period. Awesome. It also means I can’t get into the bathroom because they all require keys. Ok, so my buddy next door will let me borrow his key most of the day, but I am going to be sitting here until 6 pm because Noah needs to catch up on work. No one else will be here much past 4 so I hope I don’t have to go to the bathroom during that time period. *sigh*
And we are going to a class tonight so I’m not going to get to bed at a reasonable time and I am likely to have this cranky extend to tomorrow too. Did I mention that I am on day two of being in a really bad mood? Poor kids. 🙁