Open Letter

To all the people in my courses at school: Chill the fuck out already. You're harshing my mellow.

Seriously...no one in this place wants you to fail (except me once in a while when I'm feeling particularly vicious, but that doesn't last long, I swear). None of the profs want to flunk you out. If you didn't do it right the first time, YOU. GET. A. REWRITE.

Although I suppose that this, coming from the one who has been dubbed Hermione, is scant comfort. Um...but yeah. Stop with the freaking out, mmmkay? Because then I start to freak out, thinking I missed something...and THAT...well, if Momma ain't happy, ain't no one happy. Capeesh? Aiight then. Carry on.

Love and kisses,
Me.

PS. If anyone can come up with an assessment activity for a literature lesson comparing "The Gingerbread Man" with "The Stinky Cheese Man" before 1030 tomorrow morning, please send it along. It's freaking me the fuck out that I can't get something together.

Me.