Yes, YOU, hipster film professor in your too tight jeans with your "Yeah, I'm just a guy like you're just some guys" attitude. I'm not stupid, I'm not a 19 year old who totally digs on your mocking Transformers a lot. I see you condescending every kid in this class, and I see you grading and regarding me differently because I outright fail to appreciate your false accessibility. I know you're a snotty hyper conservative who thinks waking life is brilliant and like perfectly good classic Hollywood movies ironically instead of with any real sheer delight.
And I know you don't give me participation points, and you shouldn't leave your roster open when I talk to you at your desk if you don't want me to see that.
And yes YOU, touch-my-hair-in-math-class-guy. Yes, I dropped the class. Yes, now I see you in the gym. But there are two other things we can note here: 1) I know fully well that you don't actually pick up a single weight or get on a single exercise machine, or even walk the track in the gym. and 2) I notice you are in the gym when I am every time... but I also know that you're skipping the math class in question to go to it. That, my friend? Creepier than you touching my hair.
And yes, especially YOU, boyfriend. If you tell me you know what when we're you know where one more time, I swear on your stupid sports teams I will scream and kick you and tell everyone surrounding EXACTLY why that just happened.
Now: Everyone back the fuck off. It's not my week, and as of current I am foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog... and things haven't even gotten ugly yet.
About Nanda Sue
- Amanda Kershner
- South Bend, Indiana
- A 38 year old single mother turned wife and stepmother, and over-thinker, my anxiety disorder is more than just acute...it's the cutest. I am a tish bitter, neurotic and well meaning in sometimes equal parts, and am prone to cattiness, wordplay, run-on sentences and misspelling.
