Can’t type. Too tired. So many teenagers.
What is it with teenagers? They talk constantly. They won’t do their work. They wake up up at six in the morning on a Saturday, ride the train for at least 45 minutes to come downtown for an optional tutoring session, and they don’t bring any homework. So they talk. What can they have to talk about – they are at school all day, spending their time ignoring teachers and staring menacingly at walls. And TALKING to each other. They make me move them to a new seat, and they turn being moved into a new seat into an epic power struggle. I am so bad at power struggles that I almost never know I’m in one until I’ve lost, but some of these teenagers bring out an I-am-woman-hear-me-roar feeling. Except it has much less to do with feminism than eye-popping, whistle-blowing rage. I. Said. Stop. Talking. And. I. Mean. Stop. Talking. Then they text people (which is a ruder, sneakier way of talking to people). They think they are sooo cute. Well, maybe they would be, if they would stop talking for one second.
That’s why I’m tired. It’s a day like today when you really need a cat. And a nap.
Here’s a picture of a me and a small child looking at penguins. Penguins are a lot like teenagers – they make a lot of noise, they smell bad, they swim better than they can fly, and they love small fish and angry music. We like penguins because we feel no (debatable, but go with me) moral compunction putting them in a small room behind sound proof glass, while we have to listen to teenagers, and they get a bad rap.