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Showing posts from August, 2014

Facebook Comments: Where Souls Go To Die

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I know better. I do. I see an article posted on Facebook by NPR or some other news source and I tell myself, "Don't read the comments. Don't even look at them. You know  you shouldn't read the comments." And then I read the comments. Every. Damn. Time. This all started with the Hobby Lobby decision by the Supreme Court in early July. It wasn't a case I was even following closely. And then the Supreme Court ruled that, evidently, corporations are people with "sincerely held religious beliefs" and those beliefs are--apparently--more important than women's health care choices. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when I went batshit crazy. I mean it; I read the comments on some articles posted by NPR and other sources and I lost my mind. Suddenly, I was raging. And commenting on everything . To everyone.  A lot. Think I'm exaggerating? Let me paint you a picture of the depths of my blackout rage. I couldn't sleep the night

Things are about to get real

At the best of times, my schedule causes minor (sometimes major) meltdowns. My day starts at 4:30am (okay... by the end of the year, 5am) and I'm at work by 6:45. On good days, I can be home between 4 and 5, eat dinner, and be asleep by 9pm. During speech season, I get home much closer to 6 or 7 and sometimes crash before I've even had time to eat. During that season, that schedule usually extends to Saturdays, as well. I clocked my hours, and during my busiest season, I put in about 60-70 hours a week and usually don't see sunlight for days at a time because my classroom is windowless. I understand that many people work hard and put in similar (or more) hours each week. But this is about me. And this schedule makes me tired. Exhausted. And frequently crabby. And this year, it's about to get worse, because this fall I start graduate school. And I didn't do the sensible thing that most people I know did--I didn't go online, and I didn't go through a c