Life is slightly better today than it was yesterday afternoon. Fourth hour was twice as loud, but half as whiny and incompetent. . .just don't ask me to look at the research papers they handed in. Not yet. At any rate, I can handle loud better than whiny. Tomorrow is the last day for them to retake a test that over half the class failed before Spring Break. As of yet, no one has come in to take advantage of my oh-so-generous retake offer. In fact, no one who was absent has even come in to take it the first time. I suppose I shall have a roomful tomorrow. Why do we humans always wait until the last minute for things?
I am still slightly whiny myself. . .still, as if it only started yesterday and is not almost the norm lately. Only, it's not so much whiny. I don't whine. I just sigh wistfully. I suppose that's slightly better than whining. I'm sure I should greatly appreciate my 4th hour if they only sighed wistfully for lack of easy, brain-dead assignments instead of whined for them. So I shall self-righteously insist that my wistfulness is perfectly understandable and acceptable. In the meantime, I shall continue ignoring it and throw myself into the grading that is waiting to be done and the laundry that is waiting to be put away. It is beyond me how any woman manages an all-consuming career along with a husband. I should think I'd go insane if I didn't know an end was (almost) in sight.
Notice my affinity for "I should" and "I shall." Aren't we proper?
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