I’ve been a depressed, moody, bitch. I spend too much time in solitude, in my head. Not much challenges me, except how to deal with my neuroses and insecurities. I just watched Ghost Dog. Maybe I should study Buddhism again. Tangential, I know. Something about centering one’s self sounds good. Learning how. Not a big fan of rules, though. I don’t know if I want to teach anymore. There’s those few hours in the classroom that can be fun or educational, for me, too, but most time is spent reading over reading selections, coming up with activities and assignments, and grading--all admin stuff. I hate admin stuff. And then there’s the obsessive bitch sessions teachers engage in. It’s just not seeming like very exciting work. It’s so obsessive and I’m already neurotic. Should I use this reader? Or this reader? Or this reader? Or that reader? Or the other reader? Should I make my own reader? What should I do? Did they like the reading? Did they learn from the assignment? Huh? Should I change it or keep it the same? ACCCCKKKKK! For many teachers of writing, or anything else, the teaching comes second to research, publishing, and standing out amongst one’s peers. I don’t give a shit about research. I just want to help people write better. I’m not good at making the connections between theory and praxis. It’s so lonely for me!

Should I give up? Maybe, but what will I do?? My degree is in the teaching of writing. I’m in debt from earning this degree in the most expensive city in the country. I don’t think I can give up so easily. Adjunct teaching is for shit, though. So solitary, then I just worry about well the class went. Not every day, but often. I don’t really have anyone to bitch to, either, as none of my friends are adjunct college teachers. I know that when I do talk to someone, I feel better. But still, a life of grading and bitching? I don’t know. It’s very frustrating. I’m getting this feeling like I really want to start a magazine, but I’d have to take out a loan on top of the thousands I already owe. And a magazine’s a risky venture. Me and Bec have been discussing brewing our own beer and selling it. We’d just drink it all. Ha. No, that would be cool too. I need to figure this out. I’m so unhappy. The lack of affection in my life just compounds matters, too. I go out and feel like there’s a bubble, a thin layer of ooze, something, that’s keeping me with connecting with people. I am invisible. And moody and bitchy! Maybe it’s just winter in Wisconsin that’s provoking all these salty, upsetting feelings. I am going to a day of the annual college composition conference in Chicago at the end of the week. I don’t really want to in some wyas, but I should. Talk to some experienced composition people. Listen to some panel discussions. See if I become inspired….

I last minute decided to go to dinner with E, Yells Alot and her daughter, but the latter two stood us up, so we met with E's dad and his cologne splashed friend at Lulu. It was a fun time, but that fucking reisling wine was too strong and it did not mix well with my rustic tuscan goat cheese onion and sun dried tomato salad. i feel slightly sick and nuts now.

The highlight of the two sixty year old+ gentleman's conversation was near the end of our dinner, when they began razzing each other about rushing home to look at "nuns in bondage" on the internet.