Angry Me. Beginning of a Diary.

So after Alison Bechnel's talk, I realized I want to archive my life. "Real life is more interesting than any story I could make up," she says. Although I don't necessarily agree that my life is THAT interesting, I do believe in precautionary measures - because what if it is? So, without further ado: Wednesday, April 13. A wakes me up this morning to tell me the news about a girl who died in the machinery shop of SCL. Of course, there were feelings of sadness. It seems like there have been so many student deaths during my time here. I didn't want to go to work tutoring at Wexler Grant this morning. I thought about quitting. Why had I taken the job in the first place, though? It was to get myself up in the morning, so I would use my time wisely, and so that I'd be awake when my 11:35 class started. So I went. And I snapped. Normally, when the kids do not cooperate, I remain patient. When they say "I don't want to read this book" I coax them into reading another one. I turn the freaking page for them. Today, I was Miss Nice Girl no longer. I told them to focus, I used a stern voice. When they got distracted, I read the word where they left off loudly. I made them sound out unfamiliar words. I FORCED them to read. When I got back to the suite, E wanted to clean up the common room, because the prefrosh were coming. I was still in a hurried and irritated mood, and I resisted her attempts to get me to clean the room, feeling that it was not my responsibility to do so. I had left no mess, I always took out the trash, and though some stuff on the floor was mine, I did not think we should vacuum because A was still sleeping. I told her all this, uncharacteristically so. And though I felt like a jerk (though I feel I was right in some ways, I could have been more mature and cleaned up). A came out and picked up her stuff; I think she heard us. But the anger, more than anything, has exhilarated me, made me bolder. The boldness carried on during English class. I asked whether the bibligraphy we have to turn in has to be annotated, because finding articles without reading them defeats the point, doesn't it? Only then do I realize I have almost made the class do more work, a girl shoots me a half-kidding/half-serious menacing look. I back down and apologize, my bold high coming down. In class, I have thoughts about the emboldening effect of my sudden meanness. My meanness is not always just and it doesn't always lead me to be liked. Duh. And there is a way to be nice and still assertive. But for some reason, I feel that I need to be unjustifiably grouchy first, as if assertiveness in all areas of life needs to happen before you learn how to direct and filter it properly.