The Friendly Pedant by Mrs. Odie

How do I do it? I never fail to find a man or a woman who thinks me

A. Tiresome

B. Unappealing

C. Sorely lacking in something essential

D. All of the above

and attach all of my self-worth to that person’s opinion. I threw my back out doing the “Love me, love me, love me!” dance.

As for the person who stopped me in the hallway and said, “I really enjoyed visiting your classroom”?

Delusional.

What about the person I work for who called me a “superstar”?

Just being nice.

The stranger at the coffee shop who asked me what I did for a living, then responded, “You must be ‘the hot teacher'”?

Visually impaired.

The only person telling me the truth about myself? The only person in the world I can believe? The one who rolls their eyes at what I’m saying and doesn’t bother to answer my email.

You know. You’re nodding as you read this and saying, “Yep, that’s me.”

What is wrong with you?

“We’re going to have a pull-out day,” announces my department chair.

“Won’t that be unsatisfying and ineffective?” asks the 13-year-old boy who lives in my head. I don’t say it out loud. Not this time. I catch the eye of my coworker who knows I’m thinking it, though, and he shakes his head at me. In disgust? In mock disgust? I can never tell if they’re laughing with me or at me. Or near me.

“Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us just show up and get to work.” Chuck Close. I have no idea who that is, but I like what he has to say.

My husband doesn’t think I spend enough time playing with our kids. My students don’t think I get their papers back to them fast enough. My fitness instructor thinks I need to cross train. I think I need to do more of most everything, less of everything else. When I have a free moment, it is underscored by the knowledge that it is actually a stolen moment. There is no such thing as a free moment in my life right now. I’m not sure how that happened. My house is a mess, my dog needs to go to the vet, my kids need their shots, I have 4 assignments backed up at work, I have to write a test (TWO versions to curb the cheating).

I wish there was a pill for this. I can’t focus on any of it. I get a few minutes into something and the need to pick up another task is almost like a physical itch. Can grown-ups have ADD? Can I have some Adderall please? I hear it did wonders for Lindsay Lohan and Tori Spelling. Maybe some Ativan to help with the sinking, chest-crushing feelings I get 6 times a day? Do they make a pill for the despair that comes with aging and watching my hair turn gray and men’s attention turn to younger women? I’ll take 30 of those a month, too, please.

I want a new drug.