i Wish i Could Be On Time!

19 July 2004

Part II
"The First Name Game"
Over two months ago, one of my professors and I got into what some people would call a little “spat.” No big deal, she just wouldn’t talk to me and I obsessed over it and cried for weeks. We had planned on doing this independent study together, but last time I heard that was so high up in the air, I was sure it wasn’t going to happen. I was prepared for the worst, and waiting. Then, I received an email from the professor telling me to come by her office and pick up the first weeks readings. While I should have been rather excited, I wasn’t. I was a nervous wreck. Immediately I called the famous shrink. She gave me good advice; I showered and nervously went to campus. I walked with as much confidence as one could walk with crutches into her office and picked up the readings. Part of me wished it ended here, but it doesn’t. We sat and talked and things felt normal. Like the past few months hadn’t even happened. Then I became concerned. I’ve spent the majority of my summer analyzing the whole situation with my shrink, and dealing with what I call one of the worst break-ups I’ve ever gone through. It was bad because I shouldn’t have asked for anything more than a typical student/professor relationship. I’m the one who screwed up, not her. I just wanted her to adopt me, or love me, anything. That’s not her job. Okay. That’s not her job. During our conversation, she tells me to call her by her first name. Um, so not cool. Hello, I am screaming for boundaries. Right away that inner child of mine popped her head up and thought “huh?” I’m not going to call her by her first name. Let’s just keep things simple. 

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