Monday, December 27, 2004

no longer hasty, just rash

I am terrified of school. I love to learn, I love to read, I love to write, but I hate, absolutely cannot stand school. I am stuck up when it comes to other students and ill-prepared teachers. I once almost had a bit of an affair with the one teacher I found fascinating (I think it was the realization that his 19 year old son listened to the same music that I did that killed the idea for me, after we had been engaged in verbal and written flirtation for a few months and had coffee together). I hate school so much that I think it might actually be the reason that I have broken out into a rash. I cannot think of anything else that could have caused it. This, however, will not deter me from attending my first class on January 15th. I have already ordered the book online and read excerpts from it on Amazon. Psychology in Modern Life...from what I read I think I will actually like it. I just have to focus on the subject instead of the people around me. At least my Art History class is online, so I do not have to worry about human interaction there, except for three or four sessions, which I believe are reserved for test-taking.

With my whole new set of long-term goals...actually, I believe this is the first time I have actually had a set of long-term goals...I plan on doing well and doing whatever it takes. I am, of course, terrified that I will fail anyway. I have let myself down so many times before in this realm. It does not make sense, though. I have excelled at every new job in the company I work for. Even with little to no training, I have always found a way to get by until I can figure everything out. For some reason, it was always different in school. I felt I did not need to be as responsible, really I had complete apathy for it. I even found myself saying that there was no point in me going, even though deep down I knew I valued education so much. Sure, it pisses me off that a piece of paper is more important than merit. That someone else's opinion of my work matters more than the work itself. At the same time, I know no way around it and I realize that I actually do want that piece of paper and am unwilling to settle for anything less.

I have always been a latebloomer. I am a bit slow on the take, I guess you could say. But here I go again, to try and map the course to my chosen destiny. No one else can show me the way, but I have to pretend they can and learn their way, while secretly doing things my own style when no one is looking. I think that pretty much sums up the way I live my life. No wonder I confound so many people.

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