D-ttttt

Have you ever been in one of those places where everyone pisses you off?

And then you begin to wonder, is it really them? Or is it me reacting to them with the wrong filter over my eyes?

Yesterday was a shit day at work. Lots of miscommunication, hurt feelings, and disrespect.

You know, because just doing actual work isn't hard enough.

And then I got home and, after Zozer went to bed, logged in to school to check the discussion boards. One girl in our class, who shall remain nameless for her own privacy and because all the nicknames I have given her are not suitable for my family-friendly blog, felt the need to take a simple discussion over law versus ethics into a personal rant about partial-birth abortion. And, I guess in a misguided effort to make her point, she wrote out the entire procedure in graphic detail.

I don't care what your stance is - it's a loaded subject and gets most peoples' knickers in a wad either way - something like that is simply inappropriate for an on-line classroom discussion board, especially when it's five hundred miles off-topic from the original post (we were debating the ethics of tax evasion...how it devolved into partial-birth abortion is still beyond me).

So I typed in my response - one line stating simply that this post was not appropriate for this discussion board. Right before e-mailing our prof and stating that I refuse to even open her posts any more. She's toed the line several times before, but she pole-vaulted over it last night. He wrote back and said he understood. She responded to my post with an apology (so says M, since I refuse to open her posts any more).

This morning I arrived at work still fired up about the events of yesterday and decided the only way to resolve the issue was to vent my spleen with a pointed, well-written e-mail reply. Which I did. And while the response I received wasn't exactly what I was hoping for (who the hell knows exactly what I was hoping for, really), it at least did contain an apology.

So, essentially, I've "fixed" both the work and the school stuff. Apologies were supplied on both fronts from the offenders to the aggrieved.

But, sadly, none of really makes me feel any better. I'm sad that any of it happened in the first place, I suppose, and am tired of being in defensive mode damn near all the time.

I just want to come to work and do my job, and log in and do my schoolwork, and that's that.

I'm considering running away. All I need is M, my kid, my camera and some clothes. And my computer. And maybe the cats. And the iPod. And comfortable shoes would be great. And a coat in case we wind up someplace cold. And certain friends without whom I cannot survive. And my favorite wool blanket. And my mat cutter. And mat board. And nail clippers because I can't stand typing now with nails of any length. Maybe some snacks.

F*** it. I'll just stay here.

*In the title, the t's are supposed to be a fence. Just in case you didn't pick that up. D-fence. You know, like the signs fans hold up in stadiums. Oh, forget it. It's just one of those days.