I occasionally have to remind people that the version of me they see on my blog is not the actual me. This is the grouchy, pissed-off, annoyed me. I rant, get that out of my system, then go back to being the actual me. The actual me is much nicer.
Some people actually express surprise at that. Lunch today:
SHE. “You’re a lot nicer than I thought you’d be.”ME. “How’d you think I’d be?”SHE. “I don’t know… more annoyed at things.”ME. “Why? Because I’ve been eating cafΓ© food and it put me in a bad mood?”SHE. “See, like that.”ME. “Like how?”
“Like on [your blog],” she finally said.
And so I had to explain to her my purpose for ranting. I think she understands; but I suspect she was a bit disappointed. I don’t know; maybe she was hoping that when she met me in person I could give her hotlinks to ridiculous surveys and zany websites.
And yet I keep writing.
Dead week has come early for me. Everything (with the exception of one final exam) is due this week and I have been writing and writing and writing and writing…
So how do I have the strength left for blogging? Because it’s not the writing that bugs me. It’s the sort of things I have to write. I have to put together this Teacher Performance Assessment, and it’s a bit annoying because in order to pass it we are encouraged to be redundant, and pad our answers with a lot of details. So, I spend all my life being taught, and teaching others, not to do this, and now I have to do it for my state paperwork. Otherwise I won’t pass, become a state-approved teacher, and go back to teaching people not to be redundant or pad their papers with extraneous details.
Ah, irony.
Part of another CafΓ© Bethany dinner conversation…
HE. “I’ve met some people who, when they do drugs, they don’t change personalities at all.”ME. “Of course not. They werea--holes to begin with.”