From the Past: 27 January 2018

In fall 2014 I began adjuncting after teaching high school for 17 years. I desperately needed a break. This series will examine my ramblings while I had my students write for a particular amount of time during the first year I taught composition. These will be curated. This appears to be the last entry of the semester.

* * * * *

Why was T- not in class today? It is amazing how much energy I have since he was not in class. I just told the class about being hit on while in Baltimore. It was a 40 year old woman, and it was her birthday. She was sharing cake with everyone. She was hilarious, but when I asked L- he clarified that yes, she was hitting on me. It’s kind of funny. I liked her personality, though.

The television in this room keeps shaking. I don’t know why the television shakes, but it is driving me nuts. The projector also shakes, making it really hard to read the screen, so I’ll try not to use the screen in this class, but here’s the thing: the tv will shake, and then it will stop. That means that I forget about it, and then it starts shaking, and I think about it all over again.

I am feeling so overwhelmed with the amount of grading I still have to do, and now one of the counselors at [first college] wants to call me about a student. I hate talking on the phone. Oh dear! What if I said something inappropriate?

P- wanted to know if I was getting full time here at [second college]. It’s not full time, but it is a chance at full time, which is better than I had at [first college]. I told him that last week. I guess it is sinking in now. Maybe I did do a good job there, but I am committed to the path I feel that I have been placed upon and must continue upon. No backtracking. I told L- I was committed to teaching four classes here next semester, and that is what I plan on doing.

I wish that I didn’t feel the need to drink soda at least once a day. It is the caffeine. If I could just tough it out for a few days, I could probably make it through the withdrawal. It isn’t as if I have been having multiple sodas a day, but my triglycerides! I’m so worried that they won’t go down. What if I have to take a statin? What about the research that Mom did that says that statins increase the likelihood of dementia? Would I even consider having heart surgery if it came to it? That woman on NPR opted not to since the heart surgery itself is such an invasive and dangerous procedure. Will I die young? These are worries I have been having since my last doctor’s appointment.

Freud! Ha! I love English / psychology majors.

I have so many words because I type so quickly, and I can type without looking too. That was my favorite trick while teaching high school. Watch the kid while emailing the parent. I’m evil. hahahahaha.

* * * * *

Rap

Peanut butter, Peanut butter

Jelly, Jelly

Peanut butter, Peanut butter

Jelly, Jelly

Put ‘em all together, and what have you got? [Had to avoid that run-on by putting a comma before “and”]

Hmmmmmmm, Hmmmmmmm

Hmmm, Hmmm

That was not original. It was a silly song I learned in elementary school.

In west Philadelphia born and raised…..

I was born a poor black man. . .

I feel like E- at the moment. I’m just adding whatever comes into my mind. Unfortunately, for me, none of it is original.

I do not care much for poetry. Why? I don’t get rhythms. Those are difficult. If you see me trying to clap to a beat….run! I am unable to do it. Period. In fact, the husband stops me from clapping in church because I can’t find the beat. I also sing flat. Spoken word may be where it is at.

Now remember, M- Squared [student], this is not edited. This is just a rough draft, so be kind on whatever critique you’re giving me [because I typed this on the computer that projected to the screen].

My husband is really good at coming up with songs and changing the words to fit whatever is happening. I do not have that ability. And, quite frankly, he sometimes annoys me with his songs.

Every Heather has her farts (sung to Every Rose Has Its Thorns).

He can go for an hour just making up songs about what I’m doing, and sometimes it’s embarrassing. Thank goodness that he doesn’t sing those songs out in public. Well, he sings them quietly to me when we’re in public, but argh!

I do love that man.

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