Careful observation...
It is quite apparent that Spanish will be the challenging class this semester, just as that one semester had me fervently reading that marketing textbook, with effectively zero knowledge in regards to marketing*.
The majority of the classes I am taking are of the natural-sciences variety. I was initially peeved to find the test I took to be a 78% on that fifty question annoyance. It was little things--Latin terms with a single suffix or prefix changed, so that golden puss-forming grape-like clusters should be differentiated from puss-forming chain structures.
Evil stuff.
Apparently--for a first test, somehow skipping a prerequisite, it being the first test of that class, and it being the wonderfully all-to-common paradox that is a disorganized teacher which somehow finds a way to be a strict grader--I did quite well.
But Spanish... oh, how I don't give two shits about something I am doing on my own and online. The natural sciences are easy for me. Mathematics aren't my thing but my knack for jotting down information and picking up on obscure things is a helpful skill.
I feel that (which has since become familiar) literary-crash that comes with trying to do everything at once. A Joyce-craving will always kick in at an odd time. It's like diner food, only good for you and not accompanied by little signs of shoddy work such as the hair along the edge of your glass (that I noticed at a brunch place a couple days ago).
Before that I was at the library and looked through their "let's empty some of the things out that are neither antediluvian or worth much...
The German novels had me salivating while the Spanish books were either too daunting or just didn't whet my appetite. Among these books I found a book on the making of that "Sweeney Todd" movie. That recent demon-spawn aneurysm opened again. In my mentally-feverish state I was giggling and playing games with my eyebrows as I observed everything in my special-little-way when sleep is needed and there is some stresser about. I will give this to a friend. It is from him. He shall gift her this book. It is from him. I do not exist and I should not exist within that microcosm. It would be intruding upon reality; a most freakish event that threatens the bindings of time and space.
After the brunch this was gone. I was more or less normal after discussing with people similarly deranged. I mean, not in the clingy sense, of course. There was talks of bacon cupcakes and further reason for me to put together my Medic outfit. I can't do a German accent though.
I ain't alone. Even though to quote "Notes from Underground"*, "I am a sick man. I am a spiteful man." nothing is hopeless except for a way to climb out of the punctuation abnormalities I find myself digging myself deeper in.
1. I kind of like how German capitalizes nouns. In truth, it just seems appropriate to capitalize subjects such as [M]athematics and [Biology].
2. Read that book long ago and I still love quoting it...
The majority of the classes I am taking are of the natural-sciences variety. I was initially peeved to find the test I took to be a 78% on that fifty question annoyance. It was little things--Latin terms with a single suffix or prefix changed, so that golden puss-forming grape-like clusters should be differentiated from puss-forming chain structures.
Evil stuff.
Apparently--for a first test, somehow skipping a prerequisite, it being the first test of that class, and it being the wonderfully all-to-common paradox that is a disorganized teacher which somehow finds a way to be a strict grader--I did quite well.
But Spanish... oh, how I don't give two shits about something I am doing on my own and online. The natural sciences are easy for me. Mathematics aren't my thing but my knack for jotting down information and picking up on obscure things is a helpful skill.
I feel that (which has since become familiar) literary-crash that comes with trying to do everything at once. A Joyce-craving will always kick in at an odd time. It's like diner food, only good for you and not accompanied by little signs of shoddy work such as the hair along the edge of your glass (that I noticed at a brunch place a couple days ago).
Before that I was at the library and looked through their "let's empty some of the things out that are neither antediluvian or worth much...
The German novels had me salivating while the Spanish books were either too daunting or just didn't whet my appetite. Among these books I found a book on the making of that "Sweeney Todd" movie. That recent demon-spawn aneurysm opened again. In my mentally-feverish state I was giggling and playing games with my eyebrows as I observed everything in my special-little-way when sleep is needed and there is some stresser about. I will give this to a friend. It is from him. He shall gift her this book. It is from him. I do not exist and I should not exist within that microcosm. It would be intruding upon reality; a most freakish event that threatens the bindings of time and space.
After the brunch this was gone. I was more or less normal after discussing with people similarly deranged. I mean, not in the clingy sense, of course. There was talks of bacon cupcakes and further reason for me to put together my Medic outfit. I can't do a German accent though.
I ain't alone. Even though to quote "Notes from Underground"*, "I am a sick man. I am a spiteful man." nothing is hopeless except for a way to climb out of the punctuation abnormalities I find myself digging myself deeper in.
1. I kind of like how German capitalizes nouns. In truth, it just seems appropriate to capitalize subjects such as [M]athematics and [Biology].
2. Read that book long ago and I still love quoting it...