Dear Blog,
Today I have to be responsible. I cannot sit here all morning long, drinking my coffee, reading the other blogs, and commenting, commenting, commenting. It's not that I don't care about you—it's just that Summer quarter classes start next week and I have to prep for them. We've spent far too much time together last week—and although our time together was joyous—if this continues, I'll never get any work done. I know you'll try to seduce me with updated blog pings & those sweet, innocent email notifications that someone has left a comment. I will not be swayed—who am I kidding, yes I will, just not for long periods of time. So, I'll be here with you for a bit this morning while I try and jumpstart my body and mind with some coffee, but then I must work. I really must—but I'll check on you during my breaks to make sure you're okay.
Love,
*pixie*
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12 comments:
it'll make you feel good.
doing work?
blogs are such a huge waste of time. In a good way. I think. Ok, I've been at work for over 90 minutes so far today and I've done nothing but look at blogs. That probably isn't a good thing...
Nobody—yeah, probably not a good thing. And, when you are working at home, it is so very easy to do nothing but look at blogs.
2 syllabi down, 3 to go!
Alright, I've been doing this crap since 8 o'clock this morning. Time for a break. It's supposed to rain this afternoon so I'm getting outside while the gettin's good.
Sometimes it hits me that you're s teacher. As a student that feels weird. Not in a bad way. just strange.
maybe it's just me that's strange
I'm by no means your "typical" teacher. A good chunk of my students are within a few years of my age (below & above). Don't let it scare you away. ;)
Dear Pixie:
Get used to it, I own you. You are my bitch and I control your every move. Don't mess with me.
Sincerely,
Your Blog
QoP—I'll email you soon. I'm working on setting up an email account just for my blog. I'm not blowing you off I promise.
no, work never feels good... I've done about 9 billion hours of work in the past 9 days. Yep, a billion hours a day.
Wow Tim—you're like a machine!
Mr. Fab—I don't like it either. Today should be another one of those days.
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