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.

Two things Yalies are good at...

1.) Hiding stress

I ask, "How was your weekend?" and she manages a big smile and after a pause she says, "Good, I did... nothing." But you see the tightness of her smile, the bags under her eyes, and the blemishes on her normally radiant skin.

2.) Being socially awkward

It's important to believe that you are a fundamentally good person. Because when you accidentally slight people or push the boundaries of social propriety, you don't have to feel horrible, because had you been more comfortable around the person, you know they would forgive you.

The first two years will be filled with more uncertainty and anxiety. The last two, God grant, will be more secure and relaxed.

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