attack of the adverbs
I had one of those wretched back-to-college dreams where you realize it's halfway through the semester and you've only gone to the first week of classes, and you don't actually know your schedule, much less what's going on in any of the classes but you've decided that by God you're going to pull this semester together somehow so you've nerved yourself up to go to a class.
Only in this case, first off, I thought I was going to a history class, and instead it proved to be a math class. That would be bad enough by itself, but to make matters both worse and inexplicably far more bizarre, the class was heavily peopled with kids I went to high school with who'd hated me. I was trying desperately to take notes and figure things out while people were blaming me for them failing my dad's classes (which never actually happened. Dad taught English and Drama at my high school, and I fairly often had people come up to me and demand, "Did you know your dad *failed* me?" I would say, "Er, no," and invariably that would take the wind out of their sails and they'd wander off looking somewhat confused. What did they think, that I'd asked him to fail them?) and a variety of other evils I'd apparently committed which all evidently explained why it was they'd picked on me in junior high and high school.
One girl who was uniformly horrible to me from 7th grade onward grew up into an extremely decent person. I periodically consider asking her what exactly it was that I'd done to become one of her and her comrades' victims, but I've restrained out of 1. knowing intellectually that it doesn't really matter, and 2. the fear that she would have no recollection what-so-ever of being completely nasty for six years, and I would therefore feel moronic, which totally undermines the intellectual awareness that it doesn't really matter, but hey, nobody's perfect. :)
Anyway, I hate those dreams. :)
thinks to do today:
- see how far I can get on HoCH revisions
- pick a room, any room, and spend 15 minutes cleaning it
- go for a walk
- do some laundry
Only in this case, first off, I thought I was going to a history class, and instead it proved to be a math class. That would be bad enough by itself, but to make matters both worse and inexplicably far more bizarre, the class was heavily peopled with kids I went to high school with who'd hated me. I was trying desperately to take notes and figure things out while people were blaming me for them failing my dad's classes (which never actually happened. Dad taught English and Drama at my high school, and I fairly often had people come up to me and demand, "Did you know your dad *failed* me?" I would say, "Er, no," and invariably that would take the wind out of their sails and they'd wander off looking somewhat confused. What did they think, that I'd asked him to fail them?) and a variety of other evils I'd apparently committed which all evidently explained why it was they'd picked on me in junior high and high school.
One girl who was uniformly horrible to me from 7th grade onward grew up into an extremely decent person. I periodically consider asking her what exactly it was that I'd done to become one of her and her comrades' victims, but I've restrained out of 1. knowing intellectually that it doesn't really matter, and 2. the fear that she would have no recollection what-so-ever of being completely nasty for six years, and I would therefore feel moronic, which totally undermines the intellectual awareness that it doesn't really matter, but hey, nobody's perfect. :)
Anyway, I hate those dreams. :)
thinks to do today:
- see how far I can get on HoCH revisions
- pick a room, any room, and spend 15 minutes cleaning it
- go for a walk
- do some laundry