Mary Ward Encyclopedia: May Rush Meltdown

First of all, let me explain. Kat is feeling relatively safe with four units completed today. So I'm taking a short break, (my timer is set on 10 minutes) to type out this entry. Then it's back to the books. The back-breaking books. Ugly, too.

Mary Ward Encyclopedia Entry #1. May Rush Meltdown

Many people are familier with May/June Rush. With the arrival of our new principal, we're feeling the stress just a little bit earlier. Timetables are going out, exam registration is umm...two weeks too early, and daily reminders. Everywhere you go...thank god for cake.

But we're not here to discuss May Rush. We're here to talk about the Meltdown, associated with The Rush. Also included in this article are satellite effects of May Rush, which touch both teachers and parents.

Meltdown begins when that godawful sign goes up near the Test Centre, counting down the number of days left to write tests. (I cover my eyes when I go by.) Students feel a sick feeling in the stomach, and many are prone to headaches and mild panic attacks. At this point, students are beginning to become irritable and are working steadily throughout the day. Post-school hour excusions are shortened, but not eliminated.

The next sign for Meltdown begins when teachers start to feel the pressure. With units pouring in, they are not prone to smiling or laughing, unless they are laughing at you. Units go missing, they impose stricter rules on unit completion, and start failing people. At this point, students are only going outside for major events, and only for a short time.

Meltdown arrives. It is commonplace to see students in tears in the hallway, walking away from a teacher, or sitting quietly in an area. Students are usually sighted toting several textbooks, water, a stack of paper, advil, and a highlighter. Some also have access to laptops. Posture is terrible, and no one sees the light of day, unless it's going from school to home. Curses rebound on the walls and teachers recieve the brunt of most of it. (Jackass''!!!!!!!)

Parents become aware of their child's anguish. Occasionally, they will spot said child crying silently onto a textbook, or poring over a Unit Tracker. Child will develop red eyes accompanied by heavy bags and long-term symptoms similar to PMS. Parents, upon noticing the extra stress, promptly add to it by decreeing that the child will either "FAIL EVERYTHING" or "Pass if you just work hard!" It is the general consensus among MW Parents, that the work and the system are easier then they're made out to be. They're not.

All in all, my timer went off and I'm back to the units. (Yes, I set that timer on MYSELF.) Right Kat? (*Wanders off to look for cake...)

post 70

They're convinced if I work continuously and cut corners, I can finish all my courses. Completely convinced. They're under the impression that I can complete two and a half entire courses worth of work in the next week and a half. If you don't want this to happen again, why can't you listen to her? She's not lying. Please.

That's all. Sorry if you feel like I'm snubbing you or ignoring you but I'm really busy. I can't afford to sleep or eat, but you know, I'd like to stay concious enough to work. It would be nice. So I've got to make up for that sleeping/eating time by working doubletime. Technically, 980x doubletime would be good.

Bye. See you in August, y'all.

(bitter)sweet sixteen

Thanks everyone!

(Wow I look soooo dumb in that vid...)

i kind of hate you

I guess you- whoever you are, reading this- think I'm talking directly to you. Well, like the average Little Black Book entry it's actually directed to several people at once, and bound to change throughout the post. But you'll never know. It all depends on where the words lead me...

I wish sometimes you weren't around. Tiptoe. I wish that I wasn't such a closed-mouth-fool around you. Do you realize what you're doing to me? Can you hear through thin walls that every night I go through my day and try to figure out what I did wrong? Doesn't anyone notice these things? Or would you rather not know?

I'm sorry. Let me grab my smile so that I can protect you from the truth you never wanted to hear.

Especially there. It was more than a year and a half ago but these things stick. And back again we go! Wendy's, anyone? Or maybe dinuguan.

I should never have said anything. You see, in your case, there's really no wrong to what happened. But in mine, I could have happily kept my mouth shut for forever. Gotten married. Had kids. Never told a soul but maybe a few people I trust. But NOO. The mouth opens the brain gets carried away the bitterness never leaves and I wishwishwishwishWISH! That I could leave that behind.

You probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Neither do I.

Wow, what a great riff.

Rift.

Drift.

I remember I used to worry about "drifting" a lot. "We can't drift! PULL HER BACK!!!!!" And yet it was probably better in the end, though painful. Why did I keep trying to preserve what she didn't want? Jackass.

I know a lot of jackasses. Intolerance. Insecurity. I should talk about insecurity, right? But it's true. Suddenly half the people I know are people I wish I could beat the crap out of.

But ask plgy and you'll get a different view. They haven't turned into people I want to beat the crap out of, I just like imagining that I could hurt you. Give all the shit you gave me ten times over then piss on your face and throw you in the pond with a rice bag tied to your skinny/fat neck.

But then the pond would smell worse and I would go to jail. So instead, I'm going to sit quietly- don't move!- and clear my face so that no one can tell I'm seeing you ripped limb from limb behind my eyelids. That I'm laughing while it's happening. That I'm simultaneously shaking with rage.

Squeeze my fists.

Nothing's happening there, by the way. I know you think there is, walking in on a laugh. But there isn't! It's a growing friendship. And a difficult one, not because it's unwanted but because it comes with baggage. We all cart our baggage around. Mine fits in a pen. Yours fits in a clock. Yours fits in file folder. Travel sized convience, like mini shampoo or tiny brushes.

Bell!

Hell.

Do you think there's a hell? Today I said, "I think the ____ can burn in hell." I think you can too.

Isolation.

Please, end this.

i didn't ask...

The cliché. Backporch, a cup of tea, and bare feet. It's partly a veneration of the spring, partly a moment to gather yourself together, partly to personally look your fears in the eye. It's when you're alone that you cannot lie to yourself.

Things happen so fast. Thinking back, so many things were turnpoints in my life. I can pinpoint moments that could have gone so differently...a simple decision, a projectile, a phone call, a moment of tense silence. A door to run through. Then...then what? Life moved on, I didn't pass through. Trust. Eye contact. A door, locked shut, and tunnels moving too fast and I was blind to what lay in them. I waited on the outside. We did. Things streamed by, I stood still. And silent.

So much for sp.eak.

But there are things we cannot combat. You may think you bring them on yourself but it's something else that does it. That tells you it's right. That you HATE for the little while after. Hate yourself.

Are you confused? Probably. I bet you I'm more confused, go12. Minus plgy. Things move on, eventually. It just takes a little while.