Comic Prodigy?

There it was, scrawled on my English paper, in the bright violet pen of my teacher: 'Fantastic!  You are a comic prodigy.'
For a few blessed moments, my confidence swelled.  I was funny!  My teacher enjoyed the column assignment I wrote about advice for incoming grade nines!!
Then she passed out the next assignment-- a magazine due in three weeks.  "I expect higher quality writing from all of you," she said.  Her eyes gleamed.  I'm sure it was actually an innocent, eager gleam, one that said she couldn't wait to read our creative nonfiction magazine pieces.  But to me, it just looked evil. I was instantly reminded of the medusa-like stare of last year's Spanish teacher.  How can I possibly be expected to keep being funny throughout a whole magazine?  There are only so many cracks I can make about one specific topic.  All it's going to do if I try to be witty more than naturally possible for any human being is give me a huge, largely unhumorous (is that a word?) headache.
I've already said I'm dyslexic.  I'm not a quick thinker.  Words don't look right to me, and I can't focus on them.  With Camp Nanowrimo still going on, the last thing I need is a major writing project.
Also, what's up with these huge writing projects at the end of English classes?  Last year, we had to get in groups and shoot a movie trailer about a book we had read on our own time.  That project was at least fun.  I got to use stage makeup to give my best friend a beard and mustache, and hang her over a bridge so she dangled above a creek.  All of this was done in the middle of the woods, by the way.  This project will be done in my room, on the computer- where there are distractions that include this blog, where I am currently complaining about homework instead of doing it.
Which is why I now need to hit post before I waste further time.