And I completely forgot that I already did.
Well, I'll just write what's on my mind. I'm completely exhausted and it's only the second week of school. And, although I've only had Samarco for one class and it was the "hey, let's go over the syllabus" day, I've been dreading it. Immensely. So much that whenever I stop and think, he's the first thing that comes to mind and it ruins my mood. So I've been in a pretty sour mood lately and I can't shake it, because it's a class I have to take and, no matter what I do, Samarco isn't going to like me. I tried writing for him, tried writing for myself, tried bringing in candy canes to be the teacher's pet, but none of it worked. He doesn't like my writing and, without the support from the creative writing professor on campus, I don't feel like I can grow creatively in that room.
My first workshop is on February 7th. I have the idea for my story, the character, and the general structure, but I don't have the will to write it. I love my idea and I know I'll love it when I finally get to writing it, but now, I know I'm going into this with something Samarco will hate. It's how I'll make my introduction to the class. I'm fine with my introduction being a first-person narrative from a crazy, spinster-type college student. That's what I love writing. I love being sarcastic, light, and cheery with a touch of cynicism. Although Samarco is known for his cynicism, it's not the same. It's not the "let's go get drunk and then divorce my wife and I'll be left with nothing" type of story. It's a, dare I say it, Meg Cabot-ish tale with a heroine and her journal. Oh, he will absolutely hate it. I will absolutely love it. Everyone in that class will think I'm weird and they'll criticize me for the lack of deep, intellectual metaphors and poetic language. Samarco will tell me that I can't write in that little round-a-bout way of his. And I'll sit there, force myself to write a couple comments down about how I should change it into a story about a girl who ends up drinking herself in a coma and then murdering everyone in town when she awakes, and just...take it all.
I won't want to write for a long time after that, but then another workshop will appear and I'll force myself to write something that maybe he'll like. But he still won't like it because, even though I'm trying to experiment, he'll say it isn't what I should be writing. He'll pretend he doesn't get it.
And I'll be discouraged yet again.
And that's not even the half of it. There's the participation thing. I get to be subjected to weeks of yelling and "ASHLEY, DON'T YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!?" when I don't speak and "...Oh" and mute nods when I do speak, instead of the "BRILLIANT, BRILLIANT" everyone else gets.
I could rant about the participation thing for even longer (probably more than the workshops) but I don't want to think about it. Every time I do, I can hear him shouting about speaking up and I feel sick.
I'm worried I won't get through this class.