The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

Like a Proverbial Burr Under a Saddle… August 30, 2010

Hello all.  For the last few days, I have wanted to write an entry entitled “In the Dictionary Under ‘Galling’...”  But up until today I haven’t taken the time.  I’ve just been really aggravated lately.  You know the feeling, right?  Where it seems like everything that happens is specifically designed to raise your blood pressure a couple of notches? 

*

Like the other day.  Somebody let it slip to me that somebody else has been running their mouth about me behind my back.  Which I know they always do, but for somebody who doesn’t have a creative or talented bone in their body to criticize me for what I write in MY OWN blog?  Whatev.  Don’t like it?  Feel free to go read something else.  See what I mean?  Galling.

*

Also filed under galling:  realizing that every teacher I ever had in school whose style in the classroom was anything like the style I would later have- the kids shredded.  I remember them.  Pre-Algebra teachers?  Shredded.  Spanish teacher?  Shredded.  Librarian/Yearbook teacher?  Shredded.  In fact, I don’t remember a teacher who had a personality like mine (soft-hearted, soft-spoken, and loving, if I do say so myself) in the classroom above about 3rd grade.  After that, they were all ‘Rambo with Chalk.’  Why in the name of all that is sane and holy could I not have realized this before I got the bright idea of becoming a high school teacher?  And why can I not let go of feeling like I was totally screwed as a first-year teacher?  And is there any hope for my teaching career, short of my checking into a clinic and receiving a Classroom Bitch transfusion?  Because in a high school teacher…  soft-hearted, soft-spoken and loving translates into indulgent, gullible, and doomed.

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Want more galling?  Try this on.  Hearing that the person to whom I am still legally married and who supposedly still cares about me would not have accompanied me to my class reunion even if I had asked.  Or more accurately, was hoping I would not ask because he didn’t want to have to say no.  Not that anyone would have wanted him there or that any of us would have felt the slightest bit comfortable with him there, but he should still be willing to go with me if I were dumb enough to ask.  Petty and small of me, perhaps, but still… galling!

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Galling:  Wanting to tell somebody something and not having the guts, not being able to make a decision and stick with it and not second-guess it to death until you drive yourself and everyone else around you completely berserk, not having the self-control you desperately need to develop if you’re ever going to become a Person At Her Ideal Weight, knowing that nobody is ever going to invent self-folding laundry.

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So there is plenty more, but in the interest of not driving away my few surviving readers, I’ll skip it. (You:  clapping and cheering gratefully)  Instead I will let my poetry speak for me by posting some more of it in the comments section under the Poetry and Fiction tab at the top of the page.  Check it out.  And maybe I will be in a better mood by my next post!  Thanks for sticking through it all with me!

Until next time,

D.

 

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