Laundromats turn me into a crazy person
I'm a little crazy right now. It's getting bad, like, to the point of inappropriate. I don't think any of my students take me seriously anymore. Actually I don't think my students have ever taken me seriously, but that's another story. I suppose they like me, and at the very least, think I'm "cool." But anyway, that's not the point of this post. The point is that I kind of hit bottom last night around 2:00am. I was studying for an exam that I had this morning (it was a really hard exam, btw) and all of a sudden this guy IMs me. I recognize the screenname b/c it was from the same guy that had sent me a Facebook message earlier in the day. Just some random 30-year-old student. OK, so this is not the first random Facebook/IM stalker I've ever had...not by a long shot. But usually I immediately block their IMs or delete their Facebook messages without replying. For some reason (it was the Laundromat, I swear) I actually felt the desire to talk to this one. And so I did. For a long time. Thus postponing my studying (which I desperately needed to do) for a least an hour (maybe more) just to chat with some creepo guy who was hitting on me even though, according to Facebook, he has a girlfriend.
As weird as this may sound, though, it was actually a good conversation. Mostly because I just got to vent about the frustrations in my life to someone who doesn't know about me at all, but who nonetheless seemed quite interested in listening. I mean, does it get any better? I don't think so. I suppose I could have used more sleep and study time, but the test still went fine (because, let's face it, I'm a genius - especially when it comes to writing fiction.)
Anyway, I told a student that I had this morning all about the online conversation with the strange guy. And yesterday I told a student that I was totally smoking crack (I'm not) and that it's okay to be an alcoholic in your late-teens, early-twenties. And yeah, see what I mean by the inappropriate stuff?
It all comes down to the fact that I had to do my laundry at a laundromat on Sunday (Superbowl Sunday, no less!) and I don't know what it is, but I can't stand them. Can't. Stand. Them. I spent upwards of $12 just to do approximately three loads of laundry. And stuff wasn't even completely dry. And some red colored shit got all over my one decent pair of khakis. And I lost a brown knee-high stocking. That was my only pair of brown knee-highs, damnit. WHAT WILL I DO WHEN I WEAR BROWN OR KHAKI-COLORED SLACKS??? I'm pissed. I should not have to do laundry at a laundromat when I am in a relationship with someone who owns a washer and dryer.
At least Jess was there to help me start the loads. And Michael Franti was there (on my iPod) to help me fold them. I'm kind of really into this guy lately --> props to my brother for this one.
--
it's not about who you love
it's all about do you love...
As weird as this may sound, though, it was actually a good conversation. Mostly because I just got to vent about the frustrations in my life to someone who doesn't know about me at all, but who nonetheless seemed quite interested in listening. I mean, does it get any better? I don't think so. I suppose I could have used more sleep and study time, but the test still went fine (because, let's face it, I'm a genius - especially when it comes to writing fiction.)
Anyway, I told a student that I had this morning all about the online conversation with the strange guy. And yesterday I told a student that I was totally smoking crack (I'm not) and that it's okay to be an alcoholic in your late-teens, early-twenties. And yeah, see what I mean by the inappropriate stuff?
It all comes down to the fact that I had to do my laundry at a laundromat on Sunday (Superbowl Sunday, no less!) and I don't know what it is, but I can't stand them. Can't. Stand. Them. I spent upwards of $12 just to do approximately three loads of laundry. And stuff wasn't even completely dry. And some red colored shit got all over my one decent pair of khakis. And I lost a brown knee-high stocking. That was my only pair of brown knee-highs, damnit. WHAT WILL I DO WHEN I WEAR BROWN OR KHAKI-COLORED SLACKS??? I'm pissed. I should not have to do laundry at a laundromat when I am in a relationship with someone who owns a washer and dryer.
At least Jess was there to help me start the loads. And Michael Franti was there (on my iPod) to help me fold them. I'm kind of really into this guy lately --> props to my brother for this one.
--
it's not about who you love
it's all about do you love...