Hillary, Todd, and some little girls

Honestly, out of the thirty students in my class five of them wrote on Monet's Waterlilies. From 30,000 B.C. to 2012, five of them wrote on the same cliché series?!?!?! I should have prefaced the assignment by saying, "aaaaand no one can do Impressionism, even though I know your parents had some book on Monet and that is the only art you were exposed to or remember."

Reading too much psychoanalytic theory makes me suicidal and self-loathing. Am I the one who cannot have a normal relationship of love, platonic, or otherwise? Or is it our boyfriends, Lacan and Freud? In order for me to not want to die, I will just stop thinking about it.