I'm fairly bad at verbalizing negative emotions. I'm usually the one who maintains, the one who talks people down...I blame oldest-girl-syndrome. Oldest girls have an instinct to be calm and responsible, no matter what. Really, someone should film an oldest girl documentary. It'll be right up there with "Trekkies."

I've been fairly good at staying calm this week. I've been giving the eighth graders rides to see Narnia (stop sticking your heads out the window, y'all, and no, I don't have a radio, thanks for pointing that out), and telling the middle schoolers to hush during the Christmas pageant (the second graders are trying to sing! SHUT UP!), and even downing a glass of wine or four at a holiday party (at which I met one of the prefects from my freshman year...hunh...small world...but she can't give me hours anymore, bwahahah!).

But now...I feel like...being very negative. Perhaps kicking a chair, softly, so as to avoid hurting its feelings. Perhaps going ahead and drinking that fourth glass of wine. Perhaps smoking clove cigarettes and listening to Bauhaus. Anything is possible.

In all seriousness, though, I feel like I've been partially eviscerated, and then run over with a steamroller. Twice. I shoulda been a nun. Father Michael always said I had a vocation...