Spinette’s School Stresses

Miss me? No?

I know you do and I know you are clawing your eyes out, wondering, when I will come back (Besides mellow yellows). Did you think I was dead?

Let me tell you about a time where I was really dead on the inside, for a should-be-simple-school- group-project. For those who are wondering, this was a group project much like science fair that required two to three meetings. It was done on trifold boards with pictures of various things about a country assigned to us, and was solely based on the holiday season. On the day we were let out for Christmas Break, we would present and pass out homemade foods to the whole school. How jolly!

Well, to be honest, I was dead for quite a while before this. I was plagued with the illness of writer’s block, then sent to the fire to burn with this certain project in my life. It’s was called WHATW or Whatever Horseradish Anticipates To Wed. Of course, being a bridesmaid (leader) and all, I had to do a lot of things for this project, as I couldn’t let my ego hang up to dry after being soaked in shame. Right?

But there were some complications, as all projects do have sometimes. Nobody expects a perfect end result, but this thing—oh, it was just freckled with terrible outcomes! As I didn’t say, this was supposed to be a group project, but mostly it was all just me and a teensy bitsy little guy who could actually twiddle his fingers. For some reason, he was probably the guy who kept me from losing all my sanity. He was the only one who actually gave me something to put on the board.

One time in this particular project, we had to print pictures. A responsible-looking gentleman said: “May I take the task of printing the pictures? I have a color printer at home.” As a proper leader, I said, “Yes you may,” then emailed sternly after our meeting was over. “Get it to me before the next time we meet.” (Which was in two weeks may I add). He responded with, “cool.”

So I waited. In the meantime, I was preparing for Christmas too, smiling at a bunch of different holiday weddings (this was not part of the project). Procrastination and basically being too busy with the holiday weekend stuff held me back by a million miles.

I was also working on a another little project I like to call The Fleekness of Eyebrows. It was a fun-filled writing diary that I had complete control over, unlike the horseradish thing. As a writer, I obsessed over it and gave birth to a new child. In my pathetic defense for not writing blog posts, let me just say, it took some labor.

Nearing the end of the two weeks I was starting to get worried about the gentleman. He didn’t give me his pictures yet! Was he sick? Did he get injured? Was he dead? Frantically, I emailed him, wondering if the simple task of printing pictures has worked him to death. I asked, “Are you done with printing the pictures?” Not a single response came from him.

Soon, the next meeting rolled around. Flustered, I came in a bit late, almost crying when I saw a haphazard stack of colorful paper. IT WAS THE PICTURES. The gentleman was alive, stroking a piece paper with a nice layer of glue. I couldn’t believe it! He was alive! The pictures were right here!

Then I noticed a huge flaw. The pictures were printed on the front and back, so we couldn’t cut it out.

BLOBFISH!

To make a long story short, that’s how I was for the rest of the project.

 

 

 

 

4 thoughts on “Spinette’s School Stresses

      1. Dignity is over-rated. But perhaps from now on, he’ll think twice before stupidly disappointing his ruler.

        You know, some people think that the best leaders have the respect of their subordinates. Respect means nothing without fear.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.