The Outburst

I wouldn't call myself a big talker in my classes, but every now and then I just can't shut up. Even worse, sometimes I find myself really worked up about what I'm saying. Last night, as I tried to ask a question, a classmate interrupted me to express his surprise about my thinking and I practically yelled at him, "Look! Just let me ask my question!" Red face and all. And my question wasn't even that interesting.

I don't really like myself in such situations even though I know they're partly constructed by the context, the atmosphere in the room, the professor's way of conducting discussions, and my own level of stress at this time in the semester. But that just doesn't seem like much of an excuse to yell at someone.

Poor fella.

Family Ties

Now that the little sister lives with me there will be many opportunities to use her words against her. Here's an example of how I did just that when she shared how she had gotten mad at our mother for cooking sausage and making her clothes smell like fried food.

Email to mom:

Hi Mom,

Cassie just informed me that you fried some sausage for her today and instead of thanking you for that, she complained about the smell. I just want you to know that you can fry food in my house whenever you want. Also, you should know that I am a better daughter than Cassie, but that's pretty obvious.

Love you more than Cassie does,
Jessie

Optimism

The cold is on its way out. Good news given the mountain of work ahead of me in the next three weeks. I'll have to put my nose to the grind, but at least I'll be able to breathe out of it.

A Short Whine

Here it goes:

I'm really trying not to feel sorry for myself, but it keeps popping up. You see, I've agreed to sub for a 7th grade class tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday. During the busiest time of the whole semester. Not only do I have class tomorrow night, but I'm also sitting in on another class both Thursday and Friday after teaching all day. And then there's that lecture that I really shouldn't miss after class on Thursday because my professor made a point to invite me. And I'll need to use my lunch time and prep time to read for class and start on a paper that's due Monday. Oh. And I'm sick. Sore throat. Achy muscles. Yellow mucus. Can't sleep.

Clearly, the sorriness is warranted.

Why You Might Not Want to Date Your Financial Advisor

Overheard at a party. . .

"Were you talking to a client?"

"Yeah. The best kind of client. The kind you have sex with."

"What?"

"My girlfriend. I manage her finances too. I was like, 'Baby, I'm gonna maximize your returns. And later, I'm gonna maximize you.'"

Thanks a Latte

A mystery birthday card arrived in the mail on Wednesday. The envelope had my full name and no return address. The card itself is from Caribou Coffee and read:

Happy Belated Birthday!
Hopefully you can enjoy a shameless latte (maybe even a triple with flavor?) while you study. Love you!

No signature.

I've been racking my brain trying to figure out who sent this card and the $15 worth of coffee with it. I recognize the handwriting (perhaps due to eight years of teaching) and it seems male, but I just can't place it. I've been through all of my old cards and letters, but it just doesn't match any of those. And the postage is metered, so I can't tell where it was sent from.

I admit, I'm enjoying this mystery a bit, but mostly it's driving me crazy. If the card was sent from a blog reader and the name was left off by mistake, please, do claim your kind action. But if it was meant to be anonymous for some reason, well. . . then. . . thanks. I'll have a vanilla latte on you.

Turning Tides

The election results have me in a tizzy. So excited and nervous at the same time. I really hope the Dems can do some good. Really, really, really hoping for that.

Why I Could Never Doubt This Match

My sister, Becky, and her fiance, Andrew, share a credit card. They used to have one in each of their names, but Beck lost hers. So now they have just one in Andrew's name. He's out of town this weekend and wanted B to make their purchases using the card so as to earn miles in the process. Legally, such an act is not really allowed, so B found the card and this note from A when she returned home yesterday.

To whom it may concern,

I am writing to ask that you please allow my fiance Becky _______ to use my credit card.
We are engaged!
And I love her!

Andrew _______

Some might be inclined to not use the card with a note like that. Not Beck. She'll have the checker read it out loud. Maybe even over the intercom.