How Much Does a Grecian Earn?

I learned today that I can rely on solely rely on my mother and myself for getting me places. Because whenever I ask my comrades, I often feel that I've laid a burden on them and they have the obligation to say yes. I also have this problem with people being late. I don't care if you think 30 minutes is enough time to drive from your place to mine, pick me up, and then take me to school. Traffic on Chastain sucks and I'd rather arrive earlier than late for my damn class. I phoned her an hour and a half before I needed to be there and asked her if she could do it last night. Surely that's notification and a wake up call enough.

I went to my class and we were to write about John Keats- his life or his works. I chose kind of an analysis of the two poems she chose for us and then talked about why those things were said based on the impact of past experiences. He praises objects and birds. Lesser things than man. He's basically whining "Why does life have to be so hard? Why can't I be happy all the time like that bird or stoic like that urn?" He's essentially an Emo kid who died wheezing. But I can't put that into my paper, so I basically say that he's a little obsessed with death (come on- "Ode to a Grecian Urn?" An urn is what you put your dead uncle Ted's ashes in). And I write about other stuff in his poems like the tone, the themes, the language.

And everyone else in the class writes the same damn biography. I heard it once; I don't need to hear it again.

It's just the fact that I put effort into a petty assignment that wasn't even a grade. It was like a participation exercise. But I put thought into mine. I guess that because I love words and writing in general that maybe I'll coast but I got no feedback. No one paid attention. I want critisism and I want it now, goddamn it!

Rehearsal was awesome. I love my castmates and the things we do. I just left completely wiped out and will now go play my cleric. No rehearsal on the morrow but plenty of classes. Oh joy.