Rock's a slow life
I really, really, really don't want to go to work today. At least I can take comfort in the fact that I'll only have to be there for 6 more days. I'm not going to work next Friday since I'll be busy with the last of many Honors ceremonies.
Too modest for all those awards. I stayed away from the Honors House the entire time I was at UofL because I'd been one of those kids, one of those top students in all the top programs, in high school and I got tired of all the arrogance in those circles. And on my own, I managed to attain summa and get into grad school. I didn't need them, but they need me to make themselves continue to look good. I'll never forget sitting in the Honors House that day after my thesis defense, waiting to meet someone, and listening to that cunt go on and on about awards that had been announced that day, pathetically sharing in the glory of her "students". She doesn't even teach.
I was so irritated, I remember, early on in the thesis game. The first informational sessional had us being ordered around by some woman who didn't even had a doctorate. Not that I want to push the academic elitism thing, but I'd expect the person who supposedly has authority over my own professors in that thesis business to at least be at their level of education.
Oh well, over and done. Water under the bridge. Still waiting for that last grade to be posted. I have well above the GPA needed to graduate summa, so that's not why I'm anxious. I've gotten four A's so far and even though it doesn't matter what my final grade will be in this last class, I'm hoping to have pulled a 4.0.
The feeling of graduation is close, very close. I can almost feel it. Last week I said to people that it felt as if I were still in school, like nothing had changed. But now, I'm beginning to notice changes in my outlook. Self-reflection is a funny thing. I sometimes wonder if my ability to notice slight changes in my mood, outlook, and perception are due to my drug use or just a natural bi-product of literary education. I've let my emotions be played like a fiddle by everything I've read for the past three years, and certainly much of it has helped me to learn things about myself that I doubt I would have discovered had I continued as an engineer. Does this mean I'll become even more self-reflective during graduate school? Maybe its just age. In any event, I'm glad its there, that ability to stop and realize where I'm at and what I'm feeling.
This whole week, and likely the next as well, I've felt like I'm just waiting. Everyday is the same. Outside of school, outside of syllabi and material with a clear direction and dates for readings to look forward to, time seems to stop. I guess that's one of the big reasons why I want to stay inside academia. Apart from it, I feel so lost. My talents matter very little away from the classroom.
I'm going to try to do a complete revision of my novella this weekend. I want to finish it, polish it up, if for no other reason than I want to be able to move on to another project. Having just finished another of Hemingway's novels, I feel particularly literary today.
Too modest for all those awards. I stayed away from the Honors House the entire time I was at UofL because I'd been one of those kids, one of those top students in all the top programs, in high school and I got tired of all the arrogance in those circles. And on my own, I managed to attain summa and get into grad school. I didn't need them, but they need me to make themselves continue to look good. I'll never forget sitting in the Honors House that day after my thesis defense, waiting to meet someone, and listening to that cunt go on and on about awards that had been announced that day, pathetically sharing in the glory of her "students". She doesn't even teach.
I was so irritated, I remember, early on in the thesis game. The first informational sessional had us being ordered around by some woman who didn't even had a doctorate. Not that I want to push the academic elitism thing, but I'd expect the person who supposedly has authority over my own professors in that thesis business to at least be at their level of education.
Oh well, over and done. Water under the bridge. Still waiting for that last grade to be posted. I have well above the GPA needed to graduate summa, so that's not why I'm anxious. I've gotten four A's so far and even though it doesn't matter what my final grade will be in this last class, I'm hoping to have pulled a 4.0.
The feeling of graduation is close, very close. I can almost feel it. Last week I said to people that it felt as if I were still in school, like nothing had changed. But now, I'm beginning to notice changes in my outlook. Self-reflection is a funny thing. I sometimes wonder if my ability to notice slight changes in my mood, outlook, and perception are due to my drug use or just a natural bi-product of literary education. I've let my emotions be played like a fiddle by everything I've read for the past three years, and certainly much of it has helped me to learn things about myself that I doubt I would have discovered had I continued as an engineer. Does this mean I'll become even more self-reflective during graduate school? Maybe its just age. In any event, I'm glad its there, that ability to stop and realize where I'm at and what I'm feeling.
This whole week, and likely the next as well, I've felt like I'm just waiting. Everyday is the same. Outside of school, outside of syllabi and material with a clear direction and dates for readings to look forward to, time seems to stop. I guess that's one of the big reasons why I want to stay inside academia. Apart from it, I feel so lost. My talents matter very little away from the classroom.
I'm going to try to do a complete revision of my novella this weekend. I want to finish it, polish it up, if for no other reason than I want to be able to move on to another project. Having just finished another of Hemingway's novels, I feel particularly literary today.