Ancrene Wiseass

A would-be medievalist holds forth on academia, teaching, gender politics, blogging, pop culture, critters, and whatever else comes her way.

My Photo
Location: United States

Yes, this really is yet another blog by a disillusioned grad student. I sympathize, but that's just the way it has to be. For hints as to what my bizarre alias means, click here and here and, if needed, here and here. To get a sense of what I'm up to, feel free to check out the sections called "Toward a Wiseass Creed" and "Showings: Some Introductory Wiseassery" in my main blog's left-hand sidebar. Please be aware that spamming, harassing, or otherwise obnoxious comments will be deleted and traced.

Monday, June 27, 2005

Better now

Okay, I started today in a really, really dire state. Seriously, it was not pretty. Not at all. I was all weepy and de-caffeinated and depressed and self-loathing and my head was saying incredibly mean things to me. And it was the first day of classes for the summer session, and I got to see kids coming in half an hour late and falling asleep in the first lecture, even though they must know they're in an intensive version of one of the hardest classes in the major. (If they don't know, I intend to enlighten them in uber-intimidating fashion during Friday's section meeting.)

Anyway, yes. Very grumpy, convinced that I'm about as physically appealing as Jabba the Hutt, 95% sure I've lost the love of my life, 94% sure I really am going to die alone, and not exactly up to trying to convince the umpteenth slacker undergraduate that no, s/he doesn't deserve an "A" for showing up 75% of the time and writing an occasional grammatical sentence and that no, Beowulf is not boring. (For God's sake, the guy rips off a man-eating monster's arm and hangs it over his hearth! He fights a pissed-off mama monster with a magic sword in a lake! He gets killed by a dragon and burned on a pyre! What the hell do you people want?!)

And then I read this while drinking a cup of coffee. And now I am much better.

P.S. My early-morning mood, by the way, was not aided by a certain British DJ's decision to play depressing songs by both The Boomtown Rats and Kirsty MacColl. Jeez. This is just all you need to start off your day after having been ditched by your Irish fiance. I was half expecting him to follow MacColl's song with "Fairytale of New York," despite its being nowhere near Christmas, just to rub salt in the wound. Dammit. People have got to stop breaking up with me, or there will be no decent music left that I can stand to listen to. Or maybe I have to start seeking boyfriends with really bad taste in music . . . .