September #4

I was going to write this great poem
about how work changed me
and made me better,
this great experience
that rid me of my naivity
and yet fostered
my kindness.
I was going to
but then today
work made me cry,
perhaps with exhaustion,
or with hurt,
or from sheer exhaustion.
I remembered all those times last year
when management or boys or just
the workload
made me want to quit,
to run away,
to walk out tiredly,
unable to move my feet.
So I guess you could say work has taught me something
about perseverance.
But at what cost?

July #9

I came home today
checked my email
and got irritated at my teacher
who emailed us twelve pages
to read in 17 hours
except that
i will be sleeping for seven of those hours -
ten hours -
in class for an hour and a half -
8.5 -
commuting
which means driving my mother around
and parking
and walking
in hot summer heat
for another hour -
7.5 -
and then
before i can manage to do the reading
i need to write two response papers.
one is halfway done.
and
what about that damn essay?
i sent an email
to the same address
that he emailed us from
twelve hours ago
asking
for the extension that he said
he would willingly give.
despite getting
twelve pages of more work
i have not received even one word
of actual response back.
he is not getting his five page essay tomorrow
reply or no reply,
the essay i have managed
to write a page of.