How to Make It in Life

My psychology teacher in high school gave us an assignment one day - we had to draw a picture of a person, any person, and hand it in to her. She said she would have them analyzed by one of her psychoanalyst friends. So I drew a fat construction worker leaving a port-a-pottie after taking a dump. It had no meaning for me, it's just the first thing that came to my mind that day. I was all ready to turn it in, but then I started freaking out. What could this drawing say of me? She might somehow find something horrible about my personality that even I don't know about. I looked at the fat construction worker leaving the port-a-pottie and I thought that maybe she might think I was fixated on shit. Or something like that. So right before class, I quickly drew an elf that I saw on the cover of some fantasy book and turned that in instead. There was no way to connect that character to me, or so my mind said to itself. It was only afterwards that I realized all the phallic symbols contained within the drawing. The elf was holding a knife, he had pointy ears and a pointy nose and also other pointy things about his person. I was horrified. The next day, when everyone expected to get their drawings back, she told the class that she decided to hold on to them, and not give us any feedback. And we didn't hear about our drawings after that.

I spent the rest of the school year afraid that she was looking at me funny. I was half-expecting her to pull me aside one day and say, "I'm just a little concerned about your grades in this class. Wassamatta? Too much penis on the brain?"

But I probably had nothing to worry about. After all, she was the crazy one. Instead of having us call her by her real name, she wanted everyone in the class to call her "Mama."

But come to think of it, I do reference penis a lot on this site. That needs to be "rectified."