Another Semester of School

So, another semester until I graduate. It's my own fault I didn't pass the MA exam. I took on teaching a Film Class at the University because my vanity screamed, "Yes, Professor! Of course I'll teach the class because you think I'm so brilliant and worthy - with high quality lecture skills and vast amounts of film knowledge!"
Then of course, there is the stupidity of my own making where I misread the required list of works to read and study. I thought I already knew over half of them. All summer, I kept saying (not only to myself, but out loud to others), "I really should be studying and reading for my MA exam..."
There is no silver lining yet but there is a silver line. My independent study professor has agreed to continue helping me write my novel next semester. Thank God! I got stuck - or rather, the freaking people in my head got stuck. Oh, they've been busy - don't get me wrong...they're always busy. They were actively trying to escape while I was studying and cramming and STRESSING during the MA exam prep time but NOW?
Now that it is time for them to get out and get on the page, they've started to argue with me. They don't want to do this...they don't want to do that....the water's too cold...the dog wouldn't do that....a snitch wouldn't break so easily....and on and on. They cooperate to some degree, they love me if they're supposed to love me, they creep me out if they're murderers, but their ACTIONS are ........... stalled, on the side of the road with a white flag sticking out of the window.
Then, this other chick came along and had the nerve to create a whole other story line in my head. Not only did she do that but her story line involves TWO separate story lines! Kind of a "Sliding Doors" deal but not really that easy. She doesn't know where she's going either....her name's Shelley...brunette, drives a convertible - which I kind of think is a flaw in her character. It's a grossly vain thing but one of the story lines gets rid of it.
Anyway, the screenplay was no easier to write because the characters took over and barely let me speak at all. See, they were only dialogue. So they got to do, say and take the story where ever they wanted! I couldn't control them at all sometimes, couldn't reel them in. At least with the novel, I can hold them in, suck 'em back, cross my legs and negate their birth...I just can't always make them do what I want them to do...UGH! KIDS! Right?