Say My Name

I don't know why, but I'm exhausted. The past few nights I come home, crawl into bed and sleep for about 2 or 3 hours, crawl out for a little bit and maybe eat something, and then crawl back in for another 8 hours or so. I'm too lazy to even wrap the packages I should have sent out weeks ago, or finish the bloody letter I started writing just after New Years. Over 5 months to finish a letter. How lame is that?

Joel has a day off on Monday. I don't know why he does, but it makes me want to go to my boss and say, "Look, man,...this other guy I know of has a day off. He "teaches" English, and I "teach" English, so why does he have a day off and I don't? GIMME A DAY OFF!!"

It's silly, too, considering I only taught 2 days out of 5 last week. But, (and I say this with my best impersonation of my over-the-top whiny students) I'm tiiiiiiired. I need a remote control for my students. Volume down juseyo. Why must they scream everything? Why can't they just say my name? Actually, in Canada a total of ZERO people call me "Jenny." I'm so GLAD for it too, because I think after these past 2 years of having been called that, I'd rather not hear it ever again. It is almost always screamed, whined, sing-songed, or repeated over and over and over at me. It makes me crazy. I've actually told my students, "Listen, kids. My name is 'Jenny.' It's not JEEENNNNNNY, it's not JEnny, JEnny, JEnny, JEnny, it's not JEH-NEEEEE, and jeeze, it's certainly not "TEA-CHA!!!!"

I'm going back home soon to the land where my name is Jenn. Say it, Canada. Say my name. Yah, baby. Say it like you love me.

If/when I come back to Korea, or go somewhere else for another teaching gig, I will introduce myself as Monica, and then ignore everyone trying to get Monica's attention.

I've always wanted to meet and fall in love with a man with the family name "Vader." We will have twins, Darth and Ella.