I'm a delicate flower

Once, someone I considered a friend told me I was too sensitive. While I didn't have a witty retort at the time, I later thought that I would much rather be over-sensitive than a raging bitch that seems to take pleasure in putting others down.

Now I'm not so sure.

It takes the tiniest thing to set me off, and it keeps getting worse as I get older. I am sensitive. Most people don't expect it because of my public persona. I'm too complex-- and not in the deep old-soul way. This isn't a "No one understands me!" post. I promise.

What set me off this evening was a seemingly tiny thing, but I considered it to be a severe blow. A former student of mine posted their political views, which do not match mine, on their instagram. It killed me. This student... While I can't fault them for having different views from me, I just felt so sorry for them. And now I can't get it out of my mind. Then I got to thinking that maybe it wasn't okay that they had different views than me. Do they not value their freedoms?! Do they not value choice or rights?! Surely, I thought, they must have been raised in a certain type of household and they never made the decision to look at other political options. I began to pity this student.

In my previous post, I stated that politics have put me in a foul mood. Now, for this tiny reason, one in the hundreds of students I have taught, I am incredibly disappointed. I would give anything--anything-- to be in better control of my emotions. I take my medicine like a good girl. The only thing it really does is make me sleepy, but at least it tends to keep the racing thoughts at bay to a certain extent. A normal person would be able to brush this off. I do feel passionately about my political views, so maybe it's not such an over-reaction. But on the other hand, I taught this student. And hundreds of others. I am just so disappointed. I can't really phrase it any other way.

I'm trying to assuage my panic over this seemingly insignificant thing with music. "Carry On" is a song I just want to curl up next to and let it serenade me to sleep.

Pushing the upsetting thoughts out of my head is so difficult. Too difficult, I sometimes think. Sometimes, it's impossible. 

Hallelujah, AK3, and a long drive home

First, I'd like to acknowledge that today was good. Sort of. Okay, it was okay. I woke up at 7, intending to have a full day before work, but ended up going back to sleep at 8 or so until 12 noon. Sigh. I WILL bring those goddamn books back to the library tomorrow. Probably.

Work wasn't terrible. I got a little bit of a blow hearing that I would only have one class next quarter with ITT. It'll be Mondays. I  guess the curriculum is changing (thank god) so they can't have certain classes until the curriculum is set. I hope it's better than it is now; it's incredibly discontinuous and nonsensical as-is.

Also, I've been farting up a damn storm today. Last night we had tacos and I consumed the better part of a can of black beans. This is in addition to the hearty veggie-filled breakfast I had and the immense amount of pizza I consumed for lunch. I mean, my ass is fucking sonorous tonight. No one really talks much about their farts, which I find to be a shame. I am super proud of mine, especially when they frighten a nearby animal or even startle me. And I know that it's coming...

There are too many versions of "Hallelujah" out there. I prefer the Rufus Wainwright version, but the Jeff Buckley one keeps coming on my Pandora. Don't get me started on KD Lang's-- it's awful. AWFUL. You heard me. Also, I've been thinking a little about Alkaline Trio lately. A lot of the more influential men in my life have had a deep love for the band, and I've always thought them to be badass and hardcore and all like FUCK YOU MAN IMMA ROCK AND ROLLER but... They aren't. I don't want to call them pussies by any means, but I can't make peace with those who give bands like Fall Out Boy shit for being what they are, but then claim that Alkaline Trio is the best, most hardcore fucking band ever. Just my opinion. Also, "Help Me" sounds like "Lovefool" by the Cardigans. It kills me.

Apparently the drive home doesn't take as long as I thought it did. I only spend 20 minutes on the interstate, as it turns out. Tonight I was late in getting home because I was inspired by Heather and her love, David, who sometimes stops to get a pregnant Heather a "midnight milkshake." Andy and I have been crazy short on money, cash or otherwise, but today I found some change and thought it might be nice to stop and get a midnight milkshake. *Shrug* that's all I've got. That's about as sweet as I get.