Happy Pay the Rent Day!

I’m so excited to fork up 17 fifty dollar bills today because my landlord keeps his money in his mattress [1].

I’ve decided that I’m not fond of managerial duties. My job entails quite a lot of it, moreso than normal teaching in a classroom. I mean, you could technically apply “management” as a necessary aptitude of classroom teaching, but it turns more into “garnering control” than anything. I’m learning that “management” here means a) being able to stick to a deadline b) being able to talk to people who are older than you and tell them they screwed up, and how to fix it in a non-condescending manner, c) paper pushing organizational skill. But what, you might ask, is the underlying theme of it all? It’s all sweet talk.  ALL of it.  It’s like foreplay with strangers you find out you’re not attracted to, all day, every day, to get anyone to do something for me. Sometimes it’s incredibly excruciating.

In other news… ZOMGH1N1!

That’s right…it’s the lightening fast car of your over-media hyped fears, combined with your apathy to taking the lords name in vain over a fickle thing. And I fucking made it up! It’s mine internet, MINE!

[1] I am pretty sure this is what he does with it…or they stuff it into their pajamas at night to keep them warm,  like they did in 1932 (he was 5).