Grading Hell
Today is 7th period midterm day, and I don’t have a 7th period which means I don’t have to go to work. I should be deliriously happy right? Right? But…I’m grading midterms…still… They are so bad. No, they are worse than bad. They laugh at bad while smoking cigarettes and wearing dirty underwear just in case they get hit by a car so the people in the hospital think their mothers let them go out dressed like that. Grading these is about as much fun as rasping off my own eyebrows with a nailfile. Alcohol might make this easier (certainly couldn’t make it worse). If you are within the sound of my text–please bring over Coca-Cola, orange juice, Sunny Delight, anything. My fridge is empty and if I leave to go the store, I won’t come home. I need mixers. It’s a little early to drink rum straight from the bottle, and that’s starting to sound like a frighteningly good idea.
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