oh, the things i wish...
Whatever. Alex's still being a dick.
I didn't finish the trig homework and the teacher yelled at me. It wasn't even fair- it was the first time I'd ever gotten a late assignment anyway, but he was just so pissed that half the class didn't do theirs either, that when he came to me he blew up. At me. Blamed me for everything, in fact.
I cannot STAND being yelled at. I hate it, hate it, hate it. I understand Rossman was frustrated and venting. That's all. But yelling- even talking in a raised, angry sounding voice, really- puts me on the verge of tears and a huuuge, twisting stomachache that lasts the rest of the day. Yes, it's silly, but that's who I am. Besides that, I was already in enough of a bad mood as it was, with Alex ignoring me and my Jakelessness. Being screamed at what a stupid and pathetic creature you are does not help. I broke down and ended up driving home and skipping the rest of the day.
It brings back all the awful memories, too, about my father. He never was a very loving paternal figure, and yelled at me constantly. Nothing I ever did was right. I was a disappointment and would never amount to anything.
He died eight years ago. The words still sting.
I didn't finish the trig homework and the teacher yelled at me. It wasn't even fair- it was the first time I'd ever gotten a late assignment anyway, but he was just so pissed that half the class didn't do theirs either, that when he came to me he blew up. At me. Blamed me for everything, in fact.
I cannot STAND being yelled at. I hate it, hate it, hate it. I understand Rossman was frustrated and venting. That's all. But yelling- even talking in a raised, angry sounding voice, really- puts me on the verge of tears and a huuuge, twisting stomachache that lasts the rest of the day. Yes, it's silly, but that's who I am. Besides that, I was already in enough of a bad mood as it was, with Alex ignoring me and my Jakelessness. Being screamed at what a stupid and pathetic creature you are does not help. I broke down and ended up driving home and skipping the rest of the day.
It brings back all the awful memories, too, about my father. He never was a very loving paternal figure, and yelled at me constantly. Nothing I ever did was right. I was a disappointment and would never amount to anything.
He died eight years ago. The words still sting.