End of the semester for me. I still have a grade of 4 to remove but, well, it is over when you say it is over. And after five months of love and hate relationship with everything and everyone, I think my body broke loose, succumbing to a hell bending back pain. I was glued to bed the whole morning.
Bad timing for my break. Stress backfires. Uh-oh.
I can not remember this semester. What happened? I was just starting to enjoy “learning”, just to learn that it was time for final exams and last day of classes.
I was living my five months in front of a huge desk, with piled up papers of different colors and sizes not knowing which is which, grabbing what is on reach and writing a thing or two just to say that I made use of all this mess. I did not know time. Night and day looks the same, both are time to doze off. The only schedule I recognize are deadlines, due dates and grace periods. And maybe, minutes before these dues.
My earlier resolution to annihilate cramming from my system was covered with all other things. And I was left to have more than I can hold.
I was having trouble of my receding hairline. Blame my genes. My father and my uncles have forehead extending to their nape. Gah. So I was supposed to expect the same destiny for me, but no, mine seems to come a little too early.
I am having my M on my forehead now. And this lifestyle is aggravating it. Lack of sleep, stress, worrying plus all this vices, without sembreak you can bet I will be bald now.
But how was my semester, really?
I am having grades from all the colors of the spectrum. Not surprising. I kept on telling some friends I was losing motivation for school. At times I am so excited to go to class, but most of it I am not. I told them I found things trivial. You can learn this if you read books, from your friends, from the net or from those who sit and chitchat with you over lunch.
Of course, this is the pa-smart-ass me talking.
Is it today’s teaching style? To say I expect too much from professors is… not too much for me. Yes, I have my part to perform. I am under contract to follow all the rules of the game where the referee and judge is the professor. He is the authority, one should expect much. Motivate me, please, encourage me.
But then again, can argue that this is UP. No spoon feeding here. Sink or swim. And students do survive and get out there, and some dies in so many ways.
Yet, hey! I can still show hate for those who do not attend class yet pay too much merit on attendances, can’t I?
And for me, this is me justifying my lack of drive. Me lacking appreciation and expecting too much from school and from my self, just to, well, fall short. However, I still have the system to blame! (I miss Edel doing this rants.)
Or maybe, I was more focused on other things I deem more important. But still, I failed to balance and connect this to the role I was playing, I choose to play, inside school. I can not, should never, detach one from the other. To organize is to organize all that is to be organized. And that is the dialectics of it, to make use of the thing that may actually hamper you to fulfill what is need to be done. The contradictions, my choice of contradictions, actually. Beautiful!
What to look forward? A masseur as a life partner because this back pains will have to stay for quite longer.