THE END OF AN ERA
Well, I have to start school again on Monday, and I have been "lucky" enough to have been tossed the unchewable bone of a 9 am class. That's right, NINE. Now, anyone who knows anything about me knows that my circadian rhythms are only in sync with night hours, i.e. those kept by either graveshift workers, certifiable insomniacs, and those who are escaped convicts and can only travel during the night, and hide out during the day. In fact, that last one pretty much sums up my M.O. during the past 8-9 months. I "hide out" in my house all day, usually with my ass plastered to this computer desk, like some sort of statuesque protest against having any ambition or semblence of a life. Then, at night, I either (a) Go out or (b) Stay in, but modify my behavior (which is a fancy way to say "I move into the living room and watch a movie"). Lately I've had Carrie to do all these things with, so it's been much more enjoyable. But alas, it's all coming to a screeching halt this Monday. I will have become one of the (gasp) "morning people". Well, Carrie's already one of those, so she'll help me get up, I'm sure. In fact, she's kind of my role model when it comes to this particular subject. I can keep this woman out drinking until about twenty minutes before she has to be at work, and she just gets right out of bed like a Pavlov dog hearing a bell. I honestly don't know how she does it. Because if I don't get eight hours (and Carrie will attest to this) I am a nightmare, both to look at and to be around.
Another thing I'm not looking forward to is the prospect of having to be around students in their natural habitat, a school. I usually prefer to be around people who are either "in school" or have "been to school" in a SOCIAL environment (bars, hanging out, etc), because they stand less of a chance of making me want to bash the stupidity out of them by way of a hammer-meets-skull exorcism of the pinhead within. But, being around "students" while they are in the PROCESS of "learning" (and they really believe they are doing this...i've seen it first hand) is about as appealing to me as signing up for Greenpeace.
For instance, while registering the other day, I was in line behind this girl who was talking to her advisor. Now, I have always taken the term "advisor" to mean "person who I have to get my pin number from, and then quickly walk away". Half the time your advisor doesn't even teach a single class in your major's curriculum. So, I treat them with all the respect and ceremonial flair that they have earned: none. Anyway, there is this mindless bimbo in front of me who should be taking classes on how not to be date-raped at the vo-tech section of school, because she's about as intelligent as the combined efforts of everything I flushed yesterday, all mixed together in a frothy gumbo. SO, she's listening to her "advisor" tell her that she needs to take Trig before she takes Calculus. WTF?!? I've taken them both, it's fucking apples and oranges. This Down's Syndrome riddled "advisor" is telling her that these maths build upon each other, when there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to take them in any certain order. You apply NOTHING from EITHER ONE to the other. And she's saying "Well, Trig isn't in my curiculum, but I do have to take Calculus, so I guess I'd better take Trig." Please read that part again. SHE DIDN'T NEED TO TAKE IT. I was an inch away from just suggesting she give ME the extra $300 to use, since that way it would actually be going towards a DEGREE OF SOME SORT. But, she's eating up everything her cult leader, or sorry, her ADVISOR tells her, perhaps due to the fact that she is suffering from the intellectual equivalent of Stockholm Syndrome. I offered to sit her in front of a strobe light to deprogram her, but no dice.
This is but ONE of the reasons I wish I could just stay home and make out with Carrie 24 hours a day. But, there's really no market for that, is there? Anyone want to pay to watch us make out?
Another thing I'm not looking forward to is the prospect of having to be around students in their natural habitat, a school. I usually prefer to be around people who are either "in school" or have "been to school" in a SOCIAL environment (bars, hanging out, etc), because they stand less of a chance of making me want to bash the stupidity out of them by way of a hammer-meets-skull exorcism of the pinhead within. But, being around "students" while they are in the PROCESS of "learning" (and they really believe they are doing this...i've seen it first hand) is about as appealing to me as signing up for Greenpeace.
For instance, while registering the other day, I was in line behind this girl who was talking to her advisor. Now, I have always taken the term "advisor" to mean "person who I have to get my pin number from, and then quickly walk away". Half the time your advisor doesn't even teach a single class in your major's curriculum. So, I treat them with all the respect and ceremonial flair that they have earned: none. Anyway, there is this mindless bimbo in front of me who should be taking classes on how not to be date-raped at the vo-tech section of school, because she's about as intelligent as the combined efforts of everything I flushed yesterday, all mixed together in a frothy gumbo. SO, she's listening to her "advisor" tell her that she needs to take Trig before she takes Calculus. WTF?!? I've taken them both, it's fucking apples and oranges. This Down's Syndrome riddled "advisor" is telling her that these maths build upon each other, when there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to take them in any certain order. You apply NOTHING from EITHER ONE to the other. And she's saying "Well, Trig isn't in my curiculum, but I do have to take Calculus, so I guess I'd better take Trig." Please read that part again. SHE DIDN'T NEED TO TAKE IT. I was an inch away from just suggesting she give ME the extra $300 to use, since that way it would actually be going towards a DEGREE OF SOME SORT. But, she's eating up everything her cult leader, or sorry, her ADVISOR tells her, perhaps due to the fact that she is suffering from the intellectual equivalent of Stockholm Syndrome. I offered to sit her in front of a strobe light to deprogram her, but no dice.
This is but ONE of the reasons I wish I could just stay home and make out with Carrie 24 hours a day. But, there's really no market for that, is there? Anyone want to pay to watch us make out?