Oy.

Yesterday I kicked a kid out for saying, when he got to class late, to another student: I'm going to kill you. I'm going to fucking kill you.

Before that, in the morning, a crying freshman came up to me to let me know that he was suspended in school for punching a kid in the face. This is the same freshmen who once wrote that his father had screamed and screamed at him for once spilling a glass in a restaurant, and I can't help but tie the two together, and I can't help but worry about this poor, quiet kid. Because what could've prompted him to punch someone in the face? And, he seems so soft and gentle, so considerate and young.

I'm clashing with my department, just a little. There are things that I don't agree with, things that I have to do that don't allign with my teaching philosophies. It's not as bad as it could be, but it is particularly frustrating.

I can't figure out how to turn on the heat in my apartment, and it's really cold in here. Also, because I'm so busy with school, I don't have time to unpack. Also, I think I'm going to treat myself to some Chinese food and then go buy a garbage can. Hooray for the vivacity of my life.