ggrrRROOWwL!!!

i feel like that shot of bruce banner when his shirt splits and he turns green.

i'm furious.

try to lay out the facts of the matter for the potential poet mentor i'm choosing from and i make no bones about my wanting an advisor who actually advises. not just a paper jockey who won't give me the time of day.

she calls this, neediness.

and i'm livid.

of course i have to get angry before bed, because i need another reason to stay up til 2am, when i have to be up early to get my girl to the stables, but first to the tack shop. i'll go to my favorite luncheonette and hopefully won't be fuming by then.

i'm fresh out of ideas. i try to live honestly.

so i'm working with this middle aged lady today (btw, gramps said he doesn't want to close anymore, no surprise there kids), and it's weird.

the sink is full of dishes but not until i go to wash mine does she come over all roller derby superstars and tries to check me into the boards.

i finally walked away and said,

i'll go somewhere else.

what the hell is that all about.

avoidance doesn't often work. so finally, i say to her,

how can i make working with me more comfortable for you

(which i thought pretty rico suave, considering how thorny and abrasive i apparently am).

she tells me the boss yelled at her today, i said,

well nobody should be yelling at anybody,

i explain to her where i'm getting my 411 from, because she says eveyrone tells her something different and she doesn't know who to listen to.

so i point out the "cleanliness manual" and say,

check out anything i tell you there. as for what other say, i can't tell you where they got it from. but thank you for telling me something i didn't know.

she told me the little recepticle of water (which i think is disgusting, which we keep spoons in) is supposed to be there. but i think when the health department arranged for that little gem it was with the understanding that those things would be extracted at some point and cleaned on occasion. something none of the kids at my store (or the adults for that matter), got around to doing before i started slinging the suds.

gross. i know.

i'm tired. i got called in for a seven hour shift on my day off. and while i need the money, i hate doing residency with an advisor i don't like.

we didn't get along last semester, why would i think we'd get along this semester.

she has that sour lemons look about her, and i'm more maraschino cherry.

i don't care for her poetry either, and that settles it.

god bless the matriarch for making me promise to check out her work before committing to study under her. i'd have to have shot myself if i was saddled with her for a semester.

i told the other poet, whom i highly respect, that if i don't get him for an advisor, i'd do a ganga study with my previous advisor. ha! hope he sees the humor.

give a poet a break man.

i need one poet, just one, to make an investment, to commit to schooling me beyond where i'm at. and not chalking it up to neediness. sure i need them, but it's not neediness.

grrrrr!