I have no idea why I'm posting this drivel...
I’m not really sure why I’m posting anything right now. I don’t think my mindset is quite sane. In the past week I’ve convinced myself I’m an English major that can’t write, had a few mild breakdowns, worked over 20 hours, (and by work I mean work work, not to be confused with the ever growing mound of homework,) I’ve skipped meals, grabbing nutrition when I can, I’ve missed sleep, worked weekends, and haven’t had a full day off since early September. I hate to bitch about this stuff since I know every other collage student is pretty much in the same boat. But damnit, I can’t imagine *this* for another 3 and a half years!
Scratch that. I don’t *want* to imagine it. Don’t get me wrong, I like the whole collage thing, although the 19 drinking age limit is killing any nightlife I had a chance of gaining. But I feel like I don’t have any time anymore. I haven’t talked to some of my closer friends for weeks. My whole life is retreating into this tiny radius that includes home, work, school and all the bus stops in between.
I also feel like a fish out of water. I know that one is my own fault.
so a certain extent the whole idea of having a $100 text book thrown at me and being told “chapter 1,2, & 3 are for homework”. If I’m paying through the nose for this education can’t I expect a better teacher for my marketing class? He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but the midterm in a week or two and I don’t think I’ve learnt anything. It’s frustrating…
I’ll stop bitching...
On a lighter note, my sister’s school (my old high school) had a dance last night. Apparently it was going to be a Moulin Rouge theme and was nicknamed ‘slutfest’. God how I hate school dances… This time around, the school decided to do something about half the people coming to the dance high or piss drunk, so there were breathalyzers at the door and a teacher with an allergy to pot.
My sister and I were talking about that on the way to school/ work this morning when my mum’s mothering instinct boost into over drive. She kept putting in questions that became more and more histerical like, but what if someone bought 5 tickets and sold the others to users who brought the drugs to the dance to get more clients. Finally I had to point out that there’s a lot of paper work to go through to get into the dance (through the front door) and you have to attend all your classes to get in. It wasn’t until the “but what if there’s a turf war” question that I had to point out that Sidney isn’t big enough to have a black market selling dance tickets to drug lords. That ended the conversation.
I understand why my mum was concerned. It’s just what she does. But Sidney is what? 10,000 people – maybe 12 and at least half of those are retired. Even if they were drug lords before, they’re on a scooter now and are pretty harmless.
Man I love this place.
- Flower beds, newly weds, and nearly deads.
Mommy make it stop I want to get off now.
And again, I’m too lazy to edit this so please ignore any glaring mistakes or general ‘the hell?’ moments.
Feeling: less than peachy
Listening to: the hum of the fan on my computer and the tapping of the keyboard
Word/ Phrase of the day: damnit
Scratch that. I don’t *want* to imagine it. Don’t get me wrong, I like the whole collage thing, although the 19 drinking age limit is killing any nightlife I had a chance of gaining. But I feel like I don’t have any time anymore. I haven’t talked to some of my closer friends for weeks. My whole life is retreating into this tiny radius that includes home, work, school and all the bus stops in between.
I also feel like a fish out of water. I know that one is my own fault.
so a certain extent the whole idea of having a $100 text book thrown at me and being told “chapter 1,2, & 3 are for homework”. If I’m paying through the nose for this education can’t I expect a better teacher for my marketing class? He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but the midterm in a week or two and I don’t think I’ve learnt anything. It’s frustrating…
I’ll stop bitching...
On a lighter note, my sister’s school (my old high school) had a dance last night. Apparently it was going to be a Moulin Rouge theme and was nicknamed ‘slutfest’. God how I hate school dances… This time around, the school decided to do something about half the people coming to the dance high or piss drunk, so there were breathalyzers at the door and a teacher with an allergy to pot.
My sister and I were talking about that on the way to school/ work this morning when my mum’s mothering instinct boost into over drive. She kept putting in questions that became more and more histerical like, but what if someone bought 5 tickets and sold the others to users who brought the drugs to the dance to get more clients. Finally I had to point out that there’s a lot of paper work to go through to get into the dance (through the front door) and you have to attend all your classes to get in. It wasn’t until the “but what if there’s a turf war” question that I had to point out that Sidney isn’t big enough to have a black market selling dance tickets to drug lords. That ended the conversation.
I understand why my mum was concerned. It’s just what she does. But Sidney is what? 10,000 people – maybe 12 and at least half of those are retired. Even if they were drug lords before, they’re on a scooter now and are pretty harmless.
Man I love this place.
- Flower beds, newly weds, and nearly deads.
Mommy make it stop I want to get off now.
And again, I’m too lazy to edit this so please ignore any glaring mistakes or general ‘the hell?’ moments.
Feeling: less than peachy
Listening to: the hum of the fan on my computer and the tapping of the keyboard
Word/ Phrase of the day: damnit
posted by Sparrow | 10:57 p.m.
2 Comments:
It's a hard life. College is made to almost be fulltime, and in addition, the cost to get in requires a crazy amount of work. That equals crazy time.
I honestly dont know if I could do that all. Fully agreed with on the dances by the way. The seem...A little less than splendid.
High School dances are the proof that we are in the middle of the transition to "Brave New World"
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