Sometimes I just really need to vent....so I figure, right here, right now, why not. I just got a paper I wrote on Frankenstein back from my Lit. teacher. B-. I can't decipher most of what my teacher wrote on my paper, so the whole experience seems not only moot, but also hurtful, saddening and boring. As soon as I walked out of the class room I felt a failure. I rehashed all of my doubts in my mind, "My life is a lie, I'm an idiot, the paper truly did suck and I know my teacher was being nice to me with this grade, I've failed everyone who's ever loved me, I'm never going to pass math and I eat in my bed at night watching informercials to try to deaden the pain." I don't know why a B- would set me off in this fashion, but it does. Somehow, after my brain does this, I feel pretty lousy, but now I can step back into reality. Reality:There seems to be a shortage of teachers in the country right now, so even though my grade point average hovers around a 3.0, I pretty much still have job security. Reality: I'll probably never teach high school kids this British junk I can't grasp anyway because it's WAY too deep for them. Reality: One of my goals in being a teacher is to buck the establishment and I don't plan on trifling much with grades: no more than I absolutely have to, anyway. Fact: I have not yet mastered the use of colons and semicolons; therefore I get to write horribly and pretend I don't care. As this entry continues to make less and less sense, I find myself dozing off. I'll come back stronger though, and that's a promise.