Leave

Yes, I quit. Got up, walked away and said to myself that my time is better spent honoring the muse privately and not spend precious credit hour dollars to sit among those who were fortunate enough to get it for free. A demoralized group; didn't see the forest for the trees; spoke in foreign tongues created by the great electronic highway. Vocabulary minimal. Writing nothing, ignoring the man in charge, they know more than he, after all. The arrogance overwhelmingly painting the writing on the wall. Not how I spend my precious time. Too old for the sport of putting up with disrespect. I have my own demons to burn. Yet now I'll wonder what assignments the class will not do, but act like they did, or if they'll see the light of their ways and drop the course for other reasons than mine. But they have time to explore new roads, test the waters while tainting them along the way. I do not. My time left is all I've got to prove to myself that my mark is worth leaving, not squandering.