I am slowly accumulating straws upon my back. Little straws, but they add up.
- Little straw: one professor's passive-aggressive behaviors, listening to his infantile self-aggrandizing "stories" for the umpteenth time.
- Little straw: another professor's queer little control-freak tactics with the supply budget.
- Little straw: the other professor's incessant, stultifying boring blather as he pompously opines to his class on subject matters which are of no interest to none but him, and contain "sage observations" that are neither cogent nor insightful. (I realized years ago that the guy is an empty sack with a captive audience, waiting for retirement).
- Little straw: whiny, needy, wheedling, crybaby generation students, who think that a crisis on their part is somehow a crisis on my part.
- Little straw: the suck-ups, the sycophants who think that feeding the egos of their professors will grant them a higher grade.
- Little straw: the politics. Academicians make spiteful corporate weasels look like pikers.
- Little straw: the same damn faces, the same damn small talk, the same damn sameness.
Ah, its a good thing I'm not a violent person. I'm burden-tolerant. You know, I worked without oxygen in the corporate world for twenty-five years. I'm not sure why this place gets my goat so... easily.
Ah, but soon, I'll have the place to myself for a blissful two weeks.
And then the summer semester starts.