|Apparently the smell of a woman, in Google images, is only|
smelled by the women themselves. Bit like all perfume adverts
in that regard. I get the distinct impression that smell adverts
are only aimed at the people that wear them...
|That would be the burden of being the|
house project manager who keeps the
list of what needs to be done and by
whom as well as taking the lion's share
of the jobs that need to be done.
I don't argue its existence.
|I have so fucking many of these in such a|
short time. And only three missing cards
from my old collection (or so). It's...
Well, it's pointless is what it is. A way for
rich privileged white folk to be richer and
whiter and more privileged.
As ever, marking brings me down. Unlike last year I haven't been able to power through it as much and I am struggling not get rather sarcastic and mean with written commentary. That's why I told someone in authority at work about my situation, they need to know if only to protect the students I teach. I am well aware that I am emotionally raw at the moment and that my standard emotions are anger, resentment, sarcasm and guilt-inducement. I'm pretty good with students at the last one, and I do tend to use that to keep order. The thought that I am struggling to pull back from full emotional blackmail and destruction with some of the rudeness and laziness I come into contact with is... well, it causes me disquiet. I am usually good at the balance and getting what I want, here I may inadvertently destroy people.
|Speaks for itself.|
And that's all I have to say about that.