I really don’t have any one thing to ramble about, but I feel like posting anyway so we’ll just see where this rant goes. I’m substituting for Susan, my supervisor, again this week and next because she’s flying back down to Florida for take #2 of her daughter’s wedding (the first attempt was hurricaned out). I get to grade their in-class presentations. My class is doing theirs next week. I’ve decided that not only do I hate participating in group work, I hate having to coordinate it and plan it for my students. I’m leaning towards not having any group presentations next semester when I teach the same class again because it’s just such a pain in the ass.

I still have my wonderful head cold. Some days it’s better; today it’s driving me nuts all over again. I woke up this morning with a really dry mouth and an incredibly stuffed-up nose. I still don’t know how to spell mucus. Mucous? Muckus? Mucuss? No clue. I have a dictionary on my desk but I’ve already looked up the spelling of “queueing” today to marvel at a word in English with so many vowels together. Of course, the base is French, but that’s beside the point. Maybe I will look up “mucus” just to see it’s language of origin. Wait, what was I talking about?

Okay, moving on to another train of thought: I don’t clean enough. I’m sure the husband would be happy to attest to that. My desk is a mess because I told myself when we moved in August that I wouldn’t bother unpacking and organizing it until I had the time to do it all at a go, but that just means it has been accumulating everything else that’s not supposed to go there instead. Which, in turn, means that the things which would logically end up on my desk have instead ended up all over the living room and up in the bedroom. I also need to clean the fish tanks. And Kitty’s water fountain. And all my crafts stuff. And my Lego sets. Hmm. I suck.

I… I also think I’m getting sick. I mean, not just the congestion though that is irritating. I dunno. It’s just little things. Probably just a kidney stone. Or cancer. Or ruptured intestines. Or some diabetic thing. I dunno. And if any of you post anything about me going to see a doctor, I’ll delete it. I hate hearing that shit and have already decided I should probably go anyway so don’t nag me. Fucking doctors. Can you spell “iatrophobic”? Can you comprehend iatrophobia? I doubt it. It’s okay to be afraid of stupid shit like spiders and snakes and elevators but when someone’s afraid of something where there’s genuine cause for concern (bills, pain, embarrassment, having to take off work for an appointment, insurance, etc.) and genuine cause for stress, everyone acts like you’re crazy. Freaks. It’s not like I like being afraid. It’s not like the looks of disappointment and disgust I get when I tell people I don’t like going to the doctor. It’s not like I like being sick either. Fuck it.

I just realized I will need a new wall calendar for the office here. I have a Dilbert calendar now. It came with those little, thin plastic things that stick to windows or monitors, depicting Dilbert characters. It’s the easiest way to tell my office from the ground outside because there are little Dilbert dudes all over it. I got a new desk calendar though. Every day is a different cross stitch pattern. It’s fine for telling the dates but I don’t want to write weekly events like meetings on it. I’ll probably just grab some calendar with cats or something the next time I’m at Wal-Mart or something. I like cats. I don’t like having to brush my teeth over a cat in the morning, but that just goes with the territory, I guess.

Bleah. My nose hurts. I’m gonna go work on my thesis now.