I'm sorry, but my parents aren't forking out tons of money a year for you to be sitting there as if you don't care about how well I do. I'm sorry that I'm asking you to do your job. And I hate that this happens to be something that I have no choice but to do well in, and that this is a class that's so freaking subjective. How many students do you know that actually ask for time to sit down and talk about what's going on in class? I wanted to show you that I'm a hard worker, that I have a passion for writing and that this is actually one of the few classes that I really care about. But no. I have to sit here and take your crap, because there's actually nothing I can do about it without making things worse. Frek. I get it that I'm not exactly your favourite person in the world, but you don't have to be so frustrating. And moody. And rude.
I miss Mr. B so much right now..
1 comment:
:(
we've both blogged about this. haha. now it's just L that needs to. haha. but she doesn't blog so maybe not...
haha. you know the picture i took about this situation? well, the sticky note in the picture is now on my window sill. my mom saw it and laughed. she's like "are you trying to psych yourself out?... keep telling yourself you love it."
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