I stand before you faceless.
Well, OK, the prof didn’t actually attack me, but she at least made me scared enough to self-cannibalize myself a little. Today, though my readings weren’t quite done, it was not the regularly scheduled course work that proved to be my downfall. Today it was a sneak attack.
The prof went around the room asking us to lay out our major paper topics. I was OK with that, though exhausted and scared, as I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do… Or so I thought.
But what do I know?
It turns out, though she never actually got around to me (thank the Lord for running out of class time!), my idea was pretty much crap. Or at least not what she wanted. So, now I am popping new ulcers, and pretty much the only thing I can hope for is to get hit by a car on the way home. Seriously.
I am in the office on campus, and I have managed to stop bawling and type up a page of a new proposal, but I can’t help but feel that it is all for not, and, in the end, she will finally have my disembodied face for toilet paper, after all…
I am so dead.
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