Trapped Under Paper

As a wee lad of 20, I used to think the beginning of each semester was like getting kicked really hard in the Mr.Beaumount and spending the next 17 or so weeks slowly recovering.

Now,as I enter my second year teaching, the 25 and 11/12ths me views the undergraduate me with a brand of contempt rarely seen in people who are not on perscription narcotics. What a whinny little bitch!. Despite my much improved situation, I feel as though I have on some level been placed in a microwave and am being slowly cooked from the inside.

As always, I will maintain....wondering how me at 26 will compare to the clusterfuck possibilities of me at 30.