My parents swore to me the joys of being a homeowner. I bought the house, and moved in, to my splendid delight. Shortly there after, my best friend died, my girlfriend left me, and I was transferred from work. Through that time, I began drinking heavily, and had a mental breakdown. With therapy, I thought things were getting better. Now, I'm at my new job, in which my students flat out, do not give a shit if they succeed or not. After I get the thrill of doing everything in my power, and bag of differentiated instruction, I have the pleasure of grading these papers. There is nothing more joyous than reading about a student's role model being a rapper with a crime record. Even more impressing, is the fact that it's written out as, "Yung Geezie is tha bezt." ON A FORMAL GRADED ASSIGNMENT! Then, I get the pleasure of going home and sitting by myself, because I'm a teacher, and am 29 years in debt, therefore going anywhere is out of the question. This is my life, and it sucks. | |
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