Flop

Flop. Flop. Flop. This was the sound of class today, as I stumbled through the notes I had already read twice before class. I just wanted to say don't you all get it? They would get it if I wasn't such a stumbling mumbling mess. But I'm flipping through the pages and flopping on my face while they sit and wonder what the fuck is going on. I suck. I am the worst teacher in the world. He is so much better at this than I. Nothing I say makes sense. I only pray that they don't call me out as the phony I am. I have no business here. I am just a wannabe.

Mom sent me Christmas gifts. Interesting, since she didn't bother to send a birthday card or even call on Thanksgiving. And I'll be home in a couple of weeks anyway. It's like she's periodically motherly. Sometimes she's like my best friend, and sometimes it's like I don't even know her. Like she's ambivalent about being my mom. But then again, no one wants to be the mom of the black sheep. Plus I don't give her grandchildren. Not that I wouldn't.

And I'm still trying to stay away from the phone. Because my life is still happening somehow and I want to share it like always. Every now and then something interesting happens, something he would be interested in hearing about, but it still seems so pathetic and sad to know that only one person is able to validate the stuff you care about. Only one person is there to make sure you don't sell out. To keep it real. So it feels fake without him. It feels phony. It feels pointless.

So here are the counts:
85 hours. breakfast: none. lunch/dinner: EZ Out Burger. movies: 3. cried: 9x. presents: 3. calls: 1. postcards: 1. urges to call: too many to count. crappy class lectures: 2. beach visits: 2. bottles of wine: 3. chapters read: 1. holidays dreaded: 2 for now. persons dearly missed: 1.