Blogging from the grave

If one can do that, I may be doing it soon for a variety of different reasons. First and foremost, I've got the worst gas, ever. Today at Wal-Mart, I farted (quietly) and Serena said loudly, "Ew, you farted." Of course this man had just walked by and began laughing when she said this to me. I am sure I had turned red, and I'll give it to her, it smelled pretty bad. I let out another one before we left and I told Serena, "Okay, let's go before you comment, I just farted." I am still smelling 5 hours later and we both may die.

If my own gas doesn't kill me this weekend, I've got several students (2) who may. Both are emotionally disturbed but only one has actually verbalized his prejudice towards woman and woman of color, and me, personally. Behaviors have been escalating in one particular student, recently within the past couple of weeks. We are starting our 9th week of school, information I learned on Friday would have been helpful 9 weeks ago. Better late then never, right? I'm almost at the point where I value my life enough to not want it to end in an abrupt school incident. I am blogging about this so that when it happens this can be used as evidence towards premeditation. I've only been real scared for myself one other time, a couple of years ago when a drunk Native American guy hit on me and wouldn't leave me alone at a bar. He completely creeped me out and touched my shoulder, leaned on me and blabbed to me until I escaped to the bathroom. He tried to get me to dance several times, and get me to go for a walk with him. Well I've done some pretty stupid things, but I'm not stupid. So I gave my dad's plumber whom I saw there also, a full description of the man and where he was from in case the Sun News ran an article on a missing Asian woman. I left, literally running to my car, looking over my shoulder. Needless to say, I haven't been back there since, by myself.

So I've been a bit stressed lately, fearing for my life 1st and 2nd period; struggling to catch up academically, financially, and being depressed. All take up a lot of energy and any I've had left over has been focusing on the new object of my affection. We haven't signed out teaching contracts this year and with the raise in insurance, we're actually making less per paycheck than we did last year. Plus, shithead ex-husband has decided to stop paying tuition and hasn't yet paid the damn lunch lady at Serena's school. You would think making $60K a year, you could afford to pay for your only child's lunch. Fucker. Obviously, like my students, I am emotionally disturbed and have some internalized anger. However, unlike my students, I can legally deal with my anger in an unhealthy way. And that I shall do and turn in for the night.