The other day I had a sad sort of realization about myself. My day started as usual with me refusing to get out of bed and then blaming Ninja when I had only 10 minutes left to shower, eat, get dressed, pack my bag, and walk to class. Then I arrived in class around 8:30 (it starts at 8) and began to promptly highlight what I felt was pertinent in the provided notes. Somewhere around 10:15 I noticed that I had, in fact, not looked up once to see what was going on and not heard or comprehended a single word that the lecturer had said. It was at this point that I realized I really have no idea why I go to class at all. I usually just am miserable getting up and then I read the lecture notes to myself during class and occasionally tune in to reassure myself the lecturer is still being boring and that I am learning just as much by reading the notes. The only problem is that if I am really learning just as much from only looking over the notes I have no reason to be there at all since the notes for the whole block have already been handed out. But there is a problem. I feel horrible when I skip class for weeks on end and then I try to watch ALL 100+ hours on the internet in just a few days and I am extremely miserable. I don't know why I can't just give up, but I keep convincing myself that one day I will finally catch something in class to help me pass a test that I could never get just from the notes and that I am not just wasting my time. So here I am stuck. I have no idea why I go to class when I pay no (and I mean zero) attention, but I can't not go because I paid for this education and I am bent on getting the most out of it. Of course there are lecturers I really do like and I generally pay attention to them, but the majority pretty much read me the notes I already have like I am some sort of illiterate country girl who would never know what was going on without their kind assistance understanding those dang words put down on paper. I have also noticed that when my coffee starts to wear off I begin to text people random things to stay awake. Oddly enough, I pay pretty good attention to the lecture for the few minutes before their response comes in. So I say, texting is good and it is helping me focus and learn at school.
In other news, we had to fill out a ton of evaluations for last semester. I literally had about 25 pages of questions about lecturers I had back in August that I hardly remembered. I was supposed to put down what was good about the lecture and what could be done to improve the lecture. Lucky for me there were pictures of the people and so I could recognize their face and if I felt happy I knew they must have done well and if I felt nauseous I knew they did not do so well. However, there were several people I only just barely felt a faint twinge of familiarity with and so I could hardly remember them, let alone which lecture they gave, let alone what I did and didn't like about that lecture. Then it became a big game of appropriately vague statements. Such as: "They knew what they were talking about and taught it in a way I could easily understand." or "Their slides had a great natural flow and I could follow along with the concepts easily." or "I could tell they are passionate about their field and that passion helped me to be excited about the topic as well." The only really big problem I had was putting things I didn't like and felt could be improved. I didn't remember these lecturers and it hardly seemed fair for me to put them down for things they may or may not have done regardless of how vague I may have been. It then became a much harder game for me to play. Really the way I was reduced to writing about them was almost like writing multiple break-up letters to people I had met in a bar and gone to dinner once and then never seen again. My statements were reduced to a slight, vague criticism followed by some from of the phrase, "It isn't you, it's me." Here are a few of the key concepts I used: "You did awesome, I just don't find the history of how medical payments get collected interesting. You had a great lecture, but I was just too tired to enjoy it because I stay up too late. Don't feel bad, I'm sure someone out there loved your talks the best." It was really sad. And the thing is that I am not so great at writing break-up letters. In fact, my husband wrote the break-up letters to the last two guys I dated before him because mine were too mean. I recall ending one letter with the phrase, "You're like an STD. I never wanted you to begin with and now I can't get rid of you." I thought it was great and would convey my thoughts well, but Ninja told me it would crush the man's heart and so he never let me send it. He just wrote a polite one that had none of my personal sentiments in it what-so-ever. Probably the saddest part is that I was writing the letters in the first place because I kick people when they are down. Pretty much once they started crying I would go for broke and just rub salt in the wounds any way I could. So I thought I would save them from that by writing a letter instead. The moral of the story is that I am glad I never have to break-up with anyone ever again. Except I guess since I am married to Ninja he would be right here to help me out. Maybe I'll make him help out next time I have to do evaluations. He would have so much better things to say. Sometimes I think he only married me because he was scared of what would happen if we ever broke up. Aside from my own brother he alone knows the horrible things I had to say in my letters. And I think it scared him more than a lifetime of my psychosis.
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