While everyone I've talked with (and unintentionally eavesdropped on) go on and on about how they are so happy to be going back to class and seeing all their friends and opening up brand new books and having their horizons expanded yet another mile in every direction, all I can think about is how much I want to bury my head under a pile of sand and never have to come up again for air. It's not just the tests or the papers or the having to sit in a classroom with 69 other people for hours listening to a professor talk about how he is the greatest and smartest person I will ever meet. It's also the fact that I know 49 of the 69 people in that classroom and none of them are really willing to talk to me or sit next to me or acknowledge me at all. It's the fact that I go weeks without speaking to anyone outside my home despite my best efforts to appear "approachable" (I even started leaving my iPod at home!) and make arrangements with people myself.
I'd be lying if I i said that loneliness was the only reason why I'm so entirely dreading the next 8 months of my life because the stress of having to have the perfect tests and the stand-out papers every time. My memory is exceptionally bad when it comes to facts and dates and theories so my tests are never perfect -- I always miss that one crucial point and kick myself as soon as it's over. My brain is scattered and I can never write in a strait line, so I'm always being docked on my oh-so-awkward sentences (awk, awk, awk).
These are just excuses. Maybe I'm just lazy.
I sometimes look at getting a masters degree at some prestigious school abroad. The things I would learn would be amazing (I think), and I would probably get some nice fancy job (I would hope). But when I think of another year (or two) of school I cringe and revert back to wanting to either crawl into a cave and hide in the dark, or burry my head in the sand until this horrible idea blows over like a bad storm.
I probably should have been an electrician.
No comments:
Post a Comment