lonesome day blues

Spent zero dollars today. Sold some stuff on craigslist over the last few days. Lots more stuff to sell.

Told my landlord today that I won’t be renewing my lease. So I’ve got this place till the end of July. The clock is ticking.

My old, high interest credit is all paid off, and I’m starting to save some money out of each paycheck. Bout 20% right now. I need some emergency money if I’m going to be living in a vehicle with monthly payments due on it.

While I was high these last few weeks, I bought some new, nice clothes. I like them. But I don’t really need to be spending money on superfluous stuff right now. Counterpoint: I look fucking good when I play dress up. I’ve been alternating between dressing nice and rocking the old stand-by of jeans and band t-shirts. I like having two looks. Scruffy and clean.

I am beat-the-fuck-up today. I’ve been exercising more, so I’m tired from that, and I had trouble sleeping last night. Shitty voices in my head all night. So…”today has been a sad and lonesome day,” as Mr. Dylan said.

I think my least favorite thing about teaching is dealing with the students’ weird emotional needs and outbursts. Today I had a kid (who’s been on his damn phone all of every lecture for the entire semester) come to my office hours for the first time (right before the final) talking about, “I can’t fail this class!” Motherfucker, that is not my problem. A lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part. My grading scheme doesn’t change based on how badly you need to pass this course.

I actually feel bad when I see a student that tries hard, and fails. I still fail ’em, cause the vetting process must remain strict for those who would earn the right to build bridges and such, but I feel bad about it. Don’t feel bad about failing people who don’t try, like that other kid, at all.

I’ve never had to have a policy about phone use during lecture; this kid made me wonder if one was necessary. My philosophy has always been, if you don’t want to learn, that’s not my problem. These people are adults (though I call them kids, and they often look like kids to me), and it’s not my job to hold their hands. So, yeah–I’ll probably keep giving them enough rope to hang themselves with, if they are so inclined.

Gonna get up, wash dished, look for a van online, and exercise. There are not enough hours in the day.