An Open Letter to Algebra

Dear algebra:

First and foremost, I despise you. Not because I really want to, it's just, you include so many numbers and letters and you are far too easy to mix up. Somehow I'm always getting things wrong with you, and it's not because I don't try. You just drive me crazy.

Why can't I see you as clearly as geometry, where everything is laid out in an ordered fashion and you can SEE it?

Okay, algebra. We'll have a treaty. I'll complete you, and you...I'm actually not sure what you get out of this. I'm pretty sure you don't care.

Your hateful student,

Shira

Homework

Me: I don't want to do it.

Me: You have to.

Me: Ugh.

Me: Get off your blog.

Me: I don't want to.

Me: English homework. History homework. Math. Do it.

Me: But I don't want to be dissecting a book I read for pleasure at 7:30 in the evening! I want to properly read at my own leisure and be able to get to bed at a decent time!

Me: So start your work.

Me: Aghhhh.

Me: Shut up. Now.

Ode to Homework

Homework, O Homework,
how I despise thee
with your dastardly questions
and time-consuming monstrosities,

and projects and studies
and diagrams and tests.
I'd light you on fire -
you annoy at best.

And though teachers say
that you're easy and fun,
wherefore, oh wherefore
hath anyone begun

to torture us children,
poor beasts as we are
with assignments and workbooks -
when did they start?

Homework, O Homework,
please do go
to the remote mountains
of ice and snow

or volcanoes and fire-pits -
doesn't that sound lovely?
If you went, I'm sure
that we'd all love thee.

And maybe, just maybe,
we'd all be friends!
Homework, O Homework,
I beg of thee, END!

Lacking Something to Do

Me: Homework.
Me: Is boring.
Me: You haven't done any today.
Me: True.
Me: Do you have any today?
Me: Maybe.
Me: Go check.
Me: No.
Me: Do you have anything else to do?
Me: Can't you see I'm blogging?
Me: For the sake of doing something, yeah.
Me: I'm blogging. Very diligently.
Me: Right. Of course you are.
Me: Hey!
Me: I wasn't disagreeing.
Me: Shut up.
Me:
Me: Lovely, now I've got no one to talk to.
Me: Like you had anyone in the first place.
Me: Hey! You should be the first to assert that talking to yourself is fun.
Me: Why me? You should be the first one. I'm the voice of reason. I don't deal with such frivolity.
Me: Nyeh, nyeh, nyeh. Reason takes all the fun out of life.
Me: I heard that!
Me: Of course you did. We're both in the same brain.
Me: Who's reasoning now?
Me:
Me:
Me: Fine, I'll go check.

Sigh.