The blah continues...

The shit is over.

I hope, anyway. And it's not over, it's just over for now. But it didn't end well.

Yesterday, I met with the prof who is panning us all. We talked for 20 minutes about my academic progress, where she embarrassed me repeatedly asking such questions as, "Are you having this trouble with other courses?"

The highlight of the meeting was a statement that made my eyes bulge and my fists clench. "You should stop whining," she said flippantly. "You're almost out of university, in the working world you'll be on your own with this. You've got to develop your skills, and I'm here to help you."

Uh, what? I'm not a 5th-grader. I approached her as a mature student with real concerns about not only my grades, but how the course is being evaluated in general. And she treats me like a kid who's having a hissy-fit because his mark was too low.

"Don't worry about it so much," was another piece of brilliant advice. "It's not like your grade will be ruined."

I got very quite after that, and as hard as I tried, I probably looked furious.

In the end, we made a few arrangements so that I could hopefully pull my marks up, which included a last-minute assignment due this evening, as opposed to something due next week.

When we were finished, she looked at me and said, "About the whining. I was joking, it looks like you took it pretty to heart though."

No shit. A joke is when you make light of a situation. Not insult someone straight-faced and, upon seeing they didn't get it, inform them of the funny you just made.

It's been a bad week, because all I've lived and breathed for the past three days has been this. I'm finally released now, and happily packing for my trip to Ottawa to visit Ashley. I leave tomorrow afternoon, and was very excited.

Until I got a phone call a few minutes ago from my mom, who hadn't talked to me yet this week. I told her I really couldn't talk, I was working on something that I needed to hand in shortly, and that it was a really long story that I didn't have time to tell.

This led to a few questions from her, which lead to me answering some, including the grade's I'd received in this class so far. Which lead to her knee-jerk reactions: "Well, you're going to pull your marks up, right?" and "I'm sure things will be fine in the end." Two statements that infuriate me, and thanks to my raw mood, I managed to get into it with her on the phone.

It ended very badly, with me saying I really couldn't talk about it. I asked what was new with her, and she just dead-panned. "Nothing. Nothings new. Well I guess I'll let you go," she said, and ended the conversation coldly.

I was frustrated and angry, and I just sat and finished my work. But as soon as I hit send, I started feeling really guilty.

My excitement of the freedom of the weekend ahead was shot to shit, as all I can think about now is how badly I feel for being so short with her. Instead of feeling relaxed and happy now that I'm done, I feel guilty and really bad.

Now I don't know how to apologize, because I don't do that very well, mostly because I'm never in the wrong. Tonight I think I may have been.

Or at least that's what the guilt sitting on my chest is saying.