Erase My Head
So, I've decided that I pretty much hate my job in the same way that I hated school. The thought of its complete futility made mention of it almost unbearable for the duration of my senioryear, but there were perks, like art history and...stuff.
Work is similar in that I hate thinking about when I'm not there, but the days have a tendency to pass by quickly and somehow at the end of two weeks I've got like $500 bucks, which is a hell of a lot better than a parkinsons-esque hand tremor that I aquired in african dance from a djembe. fuck capitalization.
Anyway, I hate thinking about work. I HATE KIDS! I thought maybe this job would change my mind, but I guess choosing a select group of borderline retarted children is not the way to go when seeking a shift in attitude; children suck and retarted children suck worse when they're rich AND dumb.
This seems like a horrible thing to say and I'm sorry. I don't hate all of them, but the ones I do hate cast this terrible gas-like shroud over the good ones, who are limited in number. It's depressing most of all, to see these poor children who have the awful behavior issues as a mask for their inabilities. It's really, really sad. I guess my "hate" is really a weird sort of rejection of whatever sympathy I feel for their "plight", if that's what you want to call it.
There's this girl who is seven, but posses the mental age of a five-year-old. Everyone thinks she's cute as a button, but everytime she opens her mouth I'm tempted to mention to the people who fawn over her that, were she four or five, this behavior would be acceptable, but because it's coming from a seven year old it's simply upsetting, in that it makes me sad and then aggravated.
There's this other AWFUL kid who HAPPENED to be born the SAME YEAR as a hurricane struck with his same name. Coincidence?
On another note--
I have no idea what classes I'm taking next year or how to choose them.
Cool.
screw ITALICS.
Work is similar in that I hate thinking about when I'm not there, but the days have a tendency to pass by quickly and somehow at the end of two weeks I've got like $500 bucks, which is a hell of a lot better than a parkinsons-esque hand tremor that I aquired in african dance from a djembe. fuck capitalization.
Anyway, I hate thinking about work. I HATE KIDS! I thought maybe this job would change my mind, but I guess choosing a select group of borderline retarted children is not the way to go when seeking a shift in attitude; children suck and retarted children suck worse when they're rich AND dumb.
This seems like a horrible thing to say and I'm sorry. I don't hate all of them, but the ones I do hate cast this terrible gas-like shroud over the good ones, who are limited in number. It's depressing most of all, to see these poor children who have the awful behavior issues as a mask for their inabilities. It's really, really sad. I guess my "hate" is really a weird sort of rejection of whatever sympathy I feel for their "plight", if that's what you want to call it.
There's this girl who is seven, but posses the mental age of a five-year-old. Everyone thinks she's cute as a button, but everytime she opens her mouth I'm tempted to mention to the people who fawn over her that, were she four or five, this behavior would be acceptable, but because it's coming from a seven year old it's simply upsetting, in that it makes me sad and then aggravated.
There's this other AWFUL kid who HAPPENED to be born the SAME YEAR as a hurricane struck with his same name. Coincidence?
On another note--
I have no idea what classes I'm taking next year or how to choose them.
Cool.
screw ITALICS.