aaaaarghowowowgrr
Memo to the developmental math instructor who found it prudent to assign fifty "review" problems to students on the first day of classes: Be aware that I have a collection of voodoo dolls sporting a collection of pointy objects in a collection of uncomfortable places. How does it feel to know that a significant portion of humanity would be happier if I stabbed you in the urethra with a shrimp de-veiner?
So not only do I have to sort through the throng of people spending over four hours on their first math assignment, but have to deal with apparently being some kind of role model to the little "peachy" girl from Tuesday. She comes in with one of her little friends and wants me to help them with their square roots. Though she would be thrilled to know that she's more mathematically advanced than some of my regular customers, I'm not technically allowed to help anyone not affiliated with UAF. So what am I supposed to do, let the swamped algebra students slog their way through while I explain to the varmint how to find factors of 100, or be Karen-the-evil ogre and kick her out of the developmental math lab because her math is too developmental?
That is enough. Excuse me, I must now drink three wine coolers, eat six brownies, beat my head against the wall eighty-seven times and pass out.
I hate people.
So not only do I have to sort through the throng of people spending over four hours on their first math assignment, but have to deal with apparently being some kind of role model to the little "peachy" girl from Tuesday. She comes in with one of her little friends and wants me to help them with their square roots. Though she would be thrilled to know that she's more mathematically advanced than some of my regular customers, I'm not technically allowed to help anyone not affiliated with UAF. So what am I supposed to do, let the swamped algebra students slog their way through while I explain to the varmint how to find factors of 100, or be Karen-the-evil ogre and kick her out of the developmental math lab because her math is too developmental?
That is enough. Excuse me, I must now drink three wine coolers, eat six brownies, beat my head against the wall eighty-seven times and pass out.
I hate people.