jumbled things

I can't stop writing stories in my head, but rarely do they make it to Facebook / e-mail/ blog format. For one thing, I'm scattered already, but for another-- a lot of things I can't say.

I don't feel right publicly explaining some things... and perhaps the majority of those things would be boring anyway. So I write nothing. I am well aware this is not a happy medium. The internet is such a fickle thing-- either what I write might be misinterpreted, or the people I write about might stumble upon this, or a combination of both. And so the safe thing to do is not to do anything.

I can safely tell you that my roommate and I are quite different. We have discovered a few similarities-- we both like onions, for instance. Other than that, a wide divide separates us, encompassing cleanliness, accents, dress, public mannerisms, humor, political affiliations, feminism, life goals, views on women, views on men and dietary preferences.

Overall I have a good job. It doesn't pay well, I don't feel I excel at it, and I'm not sure the kids are even learning anything... but I really have no complaints. I do wish I could talk with the parents (directly) and I wonder if the rebellion and disrespect I fight against is normal and how I should deal with it.