Angry Writing

An assignment for my students: Write angrily for 5 minutes. Get it out. This is what I let out.

Whenever I go to paint my nails, no matter what color, it never turns out perfect. There's always a smudge, a bump, a missed spot of bare nail. And inevitably, there is always nail polish ALL over my hands. Being patient while letting nail polish dry is quite possibly the most useless thing one can do with their time--but if I want nice looking nails, I have to be patient. Yet if I don't have nice looking nails, will he not think I'm put together enough? Ugh. I spent my day off at the dentist, being drilled, prodded, poked and tortured. Seeing as how I'm at the dentist AT LEAST once a month, you'd think I would be used to it by now. Yet whenever that crucifyingly high pitched buzzing noise begins signaling the damned drilling begins, my eyes water and my body stops breathing. One minute. Two minute. WHEN IS IT DONE! My hands are white from clenching one another because I've come to realize my own hands are the only ones around to hold. OH THE SMELL! I brush, I floss, I rinse, I flouride! WHY! And then why am I looked at with pity when I tell a friend of a friend at dinner I'm a teacher? I can come home each and every day knowing that I am helping people become better citizens, I show people how to use their words to empower and how to write with their blood. What do you do? And don't give me that bullshit about how standardized test scores show how "good" a teacher is teaching and we need to continue to "get rid" of bad teachers because that is what is wrong with America and maybe if I didn't get a whole summer off (my life is sooo easy) we'd have more highly educated individuals in our world. Bull. Shit. Every morning I wake up, and no matter what size I am, no matter what weight I am, no matter how many times I try to tell myself I am beautiful, I can't get rid of the voice that tells me I don't look good. I can run 26.2 miles and go out to eat and STILL be nervous to eat all of my tater tots because there are too many calories in them. And why do you not like strong women anyway? Maybe I was too forward and maybe I am too much to handle at times, but I can throw a perfect spiral, shoot a perfect free throw and still clean up nice enough to have men tell me I'm the most beautiful woman they have ever seen and not ask to take me home. Find someone else as awesome, oh wait, you can't. And you know what else makes me angry? Infidelity. Woman on woman hating. I think it is high time we stop blaming men for affairs when we all know it takes two to tango. Don't do it to another sister. Help a sister out--don't hurt her and her life. Have more pride in yourself and don't take out your insecurities on a man who is happily married or in a relationship. Men can't be accountable for their actions; we can. Go vote women. It's a shame and a sin against our ancestors who were beaten, tortured, and embarrassed beyond belief just so that we could have the option to do our hair in the morning or go vote. Go VOTE WOMEN!

SIGH.