Jerkface

There's a teacher at the school where I work, who has always said hello to me, and I admit it, I've been short with him. He usually has that come-on type of grin and I'm not interested. Well, I guess he found the courage or what-have-you to engage me in conversation (of course it was an inopportune time at the beginning of the day when I'm trying to get everyone situated).

He asked me if I was a writer, which I thought was strange because I hadn't been telling too many people about my aspirations. He told me that he was also a writer, with a novel he had been trying to sell to publishers. So, I told him a little bit about my trials and tribulations with seeking out an agent. He asked about the genres I write in. He wasn't too keen on the vampire stuff, wondering what exactly the appeal is. I just shrugged, and explained that I've always had a love for supernatural stories. We were interrupted (for like the fourth time. He was persistent, this one) but I could tell he wanted to say more in dissention. At one point, he asked me what I was going to do when this doesn't work out, emphasis on the when. I gaped at him. "Do I sound discouraging?" he asked. By then, my surprised stare had turned to anger. What the hell, man? Like I really needed that first thing in the morning. Just because it's not working out for you doesn't mean you have to stomp on my dream. I know I teeter back and forth, feeling discouraged by the rejections, but I don't need any outside help with feeling depressed, thank you very much.

That was Friday. Today, he said hello but it's back to the casual nods and terse good mornings for that asshole.

Still waiting. I need to call about one; it's been a while since I've heard from her and she's had my manuscript since the spring.