where are you?

Dear Ms. F,

It seems like a lifetime since we last talked. I feel like we're growing apart. Ever since September 2, our friendship has been this vague shadowy memory. Remember how we planned yesterday to do something fun after work? Instead, you stayed at work an extra 2 hours and proceeded to go home and collapse on your couch before transitioning to crashing in your bed. You didn't even talk. You just made lots of sighing and groaning noises as you slid in and out of consciousness while watching Project Runway. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But honestly, we used to have so much fun together!

Remember how sometimes you used to go to places that weren't your apartment? Or your job? Remember how you used to be fun? It seems like ever since school started, all you do is plan, grade, complain and take the F train to work.

Sometimes it feels like you're at work for 12+ hours. And you've started to develop a dependency on starbucks. You used to rebuff the global corporation mentality, and now you wait in line for 15 minutes for yuppie liquid crack. Anyway, we should really hang out but I feel like we need to set some ground rules. Rule 1: snap out of your funk. I mean, I miss your company and all, because you can be kinda fun sometimes and you're pretty sarcastic. Also, I think other people think you're sort of lame for never being around.

I heard a rumor that you worked through this past weekend. That's pretty whack. I think you need to stop worrying about your lessons, your complainy, entitled students, and whether or not you finished all of your non-teaching duties. Go have a root beer. Or a shot of whiskey. Then we'll talk.

So pony up and get a life already. You're boring.

Love,
Yourself.


(PS--Need another sign that you need to get it together? You just started shrieking like a 12 year old girl when you saw a cockroach the size of your hand crawling on your door, and sprayed a can of raid all over it (and your door) until it fell. Then you made your roommate dispose of it. The Ms. F that I know would suck it up and take that bad boy out herself. You're a hot mess.)