Getting Through the Day With a Little Help From the Doors

I am in day three of my official H-E-DOUBLE-L week. This is my most heinous travel time with three college fairs a day in the wonderful hooswahville of Northeastern Missouri. I haven't seen my kids, husband or house since Sunday. I think I'm on the verge of going mental. I need to sleep in my OWN bed. Wake up in my own room by either a crying baby or a two year old that's trying to snuggle his way into the middle of our bed. GAWD, I miss home. To make matters worse, the fairs I've been attending have been a HUGE waste of my time. But, it's my job and I've tried to stay positive. Notice I said, TRIED.

I'm so over the whole be nice thing. When I started this travel season I resolved to allow any student five minutes of weirdness before shooing them away from my table. By the time I started this week, my patience with the conversationally challenged, intellectually absent and just pure WEIRD was limited to one minute. I just finished two fairs for today and will be attending another one this evening. I have gone from overly nice and friendly, to casually cynical to a permanent scowl complete with the snappy attitude and growl if you really annoy me. I've noticed that students have been avoiding my table. Although, I'd like to think that it was because I appear that scary it's really because they are PETRIFIED of St. Louis. People, we are not controlled by satin. Really. I know it's hard for you to imagine a life outside of your tiny populated town of 250. But, come on! The only students that have spoken to me this week are the ones that you'd rather gnaw your own hand off than have to converse with them any longer. I stand at my table attempting a "if you're strange and talk to me I will beat you down with sarcastic remarks and evil attempts to pawn you off on another college just so someone else can experience your strangeness" look. Apparently, that approach only attracts them. It's like a full moon on Halloween night at my table at any given time.

When I'm not snidely communicating (no not communicating because they are incapable of communication. That implies that there is a conversation. There's not. Just empty questions and blank stares). Talking. That's better. So, when I'm not answering one of the obnoxious questions one of the crazies has posed upon me, I'm singing in my head the one line of the Door's song that I can remember and so implies to the situation at hand. "People are Strange."

I just read the lyrics to the song as I hyperlinked it. Really I'm saying I'm strange. And that's why I attract the strange. They cling to me. Because I'm strange. Not agreeing with that so much.

I need to ditch that song (still all love to the Doors). Maybe Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" would be a better fit.

Wait, that says I'm crazy.

At this point, I don't think I could make a valid argument against it.