I am in a pissy pissy mood. Just frustrated and ticked off and paralyzed by low levels of anger and depression. Pissy pissy pissy.
I'm pissy about the students who sent e-mails every other day during the break, all demanding to know why they didn't make an A when they either did not turn in the final paper, turned in the final paper after the semester had ended, failed to take the final, or simply failed the final. I'm pissy about the students who sent e-mails on Christmas day and expected me to answer them IMMEDIATELY.
I'm pissy about the testing center at the university where I teach online because I have not received the finals for half of my students and there really isn't anything that I can do about that and now the students are not just complaining to me, but complaining to people higher than me. And I'm still pissy that I can't do anything about not receiving the finals except send e-mails to people saying that I haven't received the finals.
I'm pissy at that damn car with the alarm that keeps going off down in the parking lot. Do those damn things do anything but annoy everyone in earshot?
I'm pissy that I was so lenient with my students. I'm pissy that I have a hard time being a hardass. I'm pissy that I'm a pushover for every hardluck story and I'm pissy that I resent myself for being a pushover.
I'm pissy that Big Museum in That Place knew about the printing of my book before I did. I'm pissy that the only person who said anything about it was the one who wants the extra pound of flesh for the images that I used. I'm pissy that they want a copy to send to their library when the library is not going to accession it. I'm pissy that the publisher only sent me five comp copies, but sent the photographer who took the cover image and the guy who charged $1600 to "read" the manuscript ten copies each. I'm pissy that I can't tell them all to fuck off because that would be "unprofessional." I'm pissy that I can't enjoy the publication of this book.
I'm pissy because I feel that I should understand more about these elections. I'm pissy that, when I try to research the candidates, their positions and ideas all turn to water and slip through my hands. I'm pissy that I feel so alienated from the process. I'm pissy that I feel like we are in a time that requires great courage and action but that I have no idea where or how that courage and action should manifest. I'm pissy because I realize that I am probably too self-absorbed, lazy and apathetic to be courageous. I'm pissy because I fear that the courageous people will all be crushed under this bigger machine of evil of which I am a part.
I'm pissy because I don't think that I want to remain friends with someone who has been a friend for over a decade because I had several very ugly insights about him and can't seem to forgive him for them.
I'm pissy because I can't take criticism. I'm pissy because I know the importance of criticism, but cannot seem to incorporate it and instead become paralyzed by it. In fact, I'm pissy because criticism makes me paranoid that I am doing everything wrong and can do nothing correctly and that I am making grave mistakes without even knowing that I am and that my employment is constantly in jeapordy. I am pissy because I know that this is paranoia, yet I still have no idea how to think in a different way.
I'm pissy that I cannot seem to gain control over words. I'm pissy that my writing is an absolute wreck of late. I'm pissy because I can't seem to shape the words around the ideas in my head. I'm pissy because I can't seem to take their meanings and mold them into something that resembles what I mean. I'm pissy because words are so linear and two dimensional and I want to convey an idea that is geometric and three dimensional, if not four dimensional. I'm pissy that I feel all of the limits on my abilities and intelligence. I'm pissy that I feel so imcompetent.
I'm pissy that somewhere, in the back of my head and neck, I have an exhaustion knotted up so tightly that I don't think that I will ever get it so relax and release.
I'm just pissy.