The school year is in its final throes. Amazing how it careened by. I refuse to do what I normally do, look back with sadness or guilt at all the mistakes I made, feel like a failure, obsess over what I will do next year. Next year will take care of itself. At least that's one positive about CScope. It takes away all pressure of creating a curriculum and lesson plans.

If it hadn't been for the great students I had this year, I think I would have had a mental breakdown. I was close on a few occasions. Not that all my students were amazing - but here in the final yards of the year, even they aren't really terrible. I can laugh at their antics like I should have been doing all year. I think I even got over the frustration of their not working. Makes it easier on me to grade.

I think I might even try to get over the need to fix them.

I think next year I might just relax. I thought about becoming super-bitch, but that's not me. No doubt I will be super-bitchy at times. I hope, though, that I can corral this fibro a little this summer so I won't be so worn out next year. Being exhausted during 2nd period is not helpful.

It helped not watching Freedom Writers this year. I don't feel the need to compete or to change the world. Or maybe I'm losing my will to change the world. Whatever.

Ambivalence reigns. :)

now begins another fucking slow death. another one. FUCK i'm so tired of this.

it's funny how, in the midst of destruction, i feel like creating destruction for the sake of destruction. i want to rip something, to throw something, to take this all out on something that doesn't matter. i don't want to hurt anyone, just break something. transfer some of this rage and despair from something indestructible (the cancer) to something inanimate and worthless (the calendar under my computer, the can of soda at my left, whatever).

what lunacy to think i just have a cursed school year! that once the term ends, things will somehow get better. to think that i'll be able to escape any of this any time soon.

to think i'll have to watch my husband's exponential sorrow and have no way to abate it.

to feel utterly powerless against something so fucking minuscule, so mindless, yet so determined to destroy.

in the big scheme

this is all so damn irrelevant.

1:04 pm - why I'm glad for my marriage. why I don't make a big deal about - everything - that pisses me off at times. why I love my husband. :)

A little shout out

Thanks to Sarasvati, Goddess of Learning for a rather painless first night of essay writing. Normally it would take me all day to get three pages out, but with her help, and some crystal magnification, I pounded out three pages in a couple of hours.

I figured, since I was focusing on the Indian Diaspora again this semester, I would do a little outside learning of the Indian pantheon and draw some of their aid.

I'm delighted at how easy this is, how right it feels. Part of me still thinks I might regret it, but that must be the subconscious strident moralizing guilt bands still around my mind. I think I may deal with those for a while...as long as I continue to listen. Deal is, if I listen to them I have to listen to the fears that maybe the fanatics might also be right. Where does that land me? Belief through fear? I'm afraid it might be true, so I believe it? There's no joy in that...only paranoia.

No, my Goddess candle flickers joyously beside me, and I feel like I'm actually connected to something intimate and pure. And exciting. :)

one step out

maybe two. i finally admitted to being a witch to my husband. he had already kind of guessed (what with all of the witchery books i have collected), but i think it did us good to talk about it a little. i know he's not ecstatic about it, and he hopes it's just a fad ("it's what you believe in right now"), and i'm not sure it's not a fad. that's really not the point right now. i'm happy.

one of the meditations last night was about breaking out of an egg shell. and yeah, i think that's what this has felt like for years. being pushed against the sides, suffocating, beating the walls trying to break free. and the walls have been home, safety, conformity. i guess i'm just not cut out for conformity.