Passing Time on a Rainy Afternoon

“I’m going to count how many negative statements you make.”

“Fine, I’m going to count how many negative statements you make.”

“Alright, we can keep a tally. It’ll be fun. Don’t you think that will be fun?”

“No.”

“Okay. That’s one.”

Hosting

Anxiously awaiting the family's arrival. It'll be a cozy Christmas in my little house. Busting with love and laughter.

Cheesy. I know. It comes out this time of year.

Paper-o-meter

College roommate Angela and I used to argue about whether the paper-o-meter was pronounced paper-ah-meter or paper-oh-meter. I like paper-ah-meter, but you can call it whatever you want. The important thing is that it measures how many pages left to write at the end of each semester.

The count as of today? 17.

And blog entries don't count.

"That One Was Especially Dry."

Cassie is trying to pull her weight around here, but I'm going to have to draw the line at watering the fake plants. She's done it once so far, and really, she doesn't have to.

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.