Maybe it's because the vent over me at Starbucks is blowing cold air.
Maybe I just don't want to grade tests, and if they were out of the way I'd feel fine.
But most likely I think I'm suffering from anywhere-but-here syndrome.
Next weekend is the Chicago Marathon, in which four of my family members will be running and several others will be spectating. Unless I cram my weekend and commit to a seven hour solo drive each way, I won't be there.
My brother Patrick sent an email listing all the cute things that his daughter is doing these days--I can look forward to seeing those things at Christmas. And I'll probably have to reintroduce myself to her. I've considering posting videos to YouTube of myself so she'll have some idea of who Aunt Bailey is.
Did I mention it's freezing in this Starbucks?
I feel like I would be less cranky if I could even just be grading tests in my Starbucks back at home, where I used to work.
This is kind of ridiculous, to write myself a hypothetical prescription and imagine what it would be like to experience it, or assume that it would be better than my here and now.
I talked to my brother Kelly this week, and after disagreeing with him about an issue in one of my classes and telling him that I didn't want to talk about school, he asked me how things are on the boy front.
"I don't want to talk about it."
He apologized; I could tell he didn't intend to upset me and felt bad about my stress level.
I rarely flat out say, "I don't want to talk about it," so saying so twice alerted me that, well, either I'm changing or I'm in a funk.
I've been extra annoyed with driving lately, too. Being in the car--it's like a cage, with squealing brakes and a gas tank that needs to be filled.
If I knew this staff better, I might ask them to turn off the A/C.
Grumble grumble. To the tests now.
Yours grumpily,
B
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