hee! coke.

mood: stiff
music: haze screeching in the next room
CPCetc: mrph. back pain.

Words cannot describe how little I care about school right now. Thankfully, tomorrow is Thursday. Which, this week, is Friday. Which means no school after tomorrow. Unthankfully, we have Mads tomorrow. And our festival music is supposed to be memorised. And I can't speak French. Let alone Haitian.

...Bollocks.

If you're going to be an English teacher, you need to learn how to spell words like 'reference' and 'priorities', and you need to learn proper grammar. You also need to know basic literary locations, such as what the Thames is and where it resides. That way, when some smart-ass kid in your class asks you if the 'river that ran purple with ill-smelling dye' is the particular river they think it is, you can actually answer them and not just stare blankly with a look of abject horror before blindly agreeing so as not to seem stupid. Because students notice everything. And, more than anything else, they notice when you don't know what they're talking about.

Yes, I am a horrible person. But, damnit, I know my Victorian literature a helluva lot better than my current C&I teacher. And that makes me fear for the future of secondary education.

Of course, we live in America. We don't read Victorian literature. They're accents are sissy.

Also, stomach wounds take at least fifteen minutes to cause death. The writers of Lost! should take note of that. For Paiga pointed it out and is very, very right. *pokes them*

Gee whiz! I'm just full of knowledge today! *is pretentious*