The Worst Semester Ever
I made it through, I somehow survived the worst semester of my life. At least, it had better be!
Now for the background. This past semester, I decided to experiment with some psychology classes. I've never taken any before but thought it could be a possible career opportunity for me. I also took a personal finance class, and an English editing class. About two weeks in, I was already drowning in homework and realized that history would probably be a better fit for me. I have enjoyed history for as long as I can remember. When I was in elementary, my favorite thing was visiting the library to check out history books on countries and the great battles of history. As I was still before the deadline to drop classes, I looked into trying to drop my classes. I couldn't get into the history classes, so I figured that I'd take the semester off, focus on painting, collaging, working, and other artistic endeavors. However, I was not so fortunate. Thanks to my situation and financial aid, I discovered that I would have to get permission from the dean of each college to drop the class. The likelihood of convincing three deans to allow me to drop the classes—for little reason other than not wanting to do them—seemed rather improbable. Plus I would have had to pay back all of my financial aid. Essentially making it so that I would have to pay almost full tuition to not go to school. Talk about getting screwed by the system!
There I was, trapped in a sinking lifeboat, that was taking on water fast! And to make things even worse, I discovered that none of the credits would count towards any degrees I do unless I choose psychology, then only half of them would count. And, I couldn't simply blow off the classes, or they would lower my GPA significantly. Now I was trapped in a sinking lifeboat, that was taking on water fast, with an enormous wave on the horizon! Completely screwed.
This was by far the busiest semester I have ever taken. Sooooooo much homework! Ever waking minute that I was not at school or work, I spent doing homework—no joke. At one point I legitimately had to tell my parents, "until this semester is over, pretend that I was never born."
The only thing that saved me was not procrastinating. The entirety of fall break was spent doing homework, to try and get ahead. The weeklong Thanksgiving break was also spent doing nothing
but homework. If I wanted to do anything other than homework, like go to dinner with a friend, I had to plan weeks in advance, and try to crank out extra homework to make it happen.
Most unfortunately, 75% of my homework was busy work. But if you don't do the busy work, you don't pass. I liked most of my teachers, and most of my peers, but the class content was either poorly taught and put together, or just wound up being completely useless. For example: my personal finance class was nothing but learning definitions...I didn't learn anything about application. I can tell you what an open-load mutual fund is, but I can't tell you anything about which ones are good, or where/how to invest in one. A complete waste of 14 weeks. Both of my psychology classes were essentially classes on the scientific method. I learned very little in either of those classes. English was my one saving grace. Undoubtedly the hardest class I have ever taken, it was the best of the semester. The nit-picking perfectionism of editing fits in perfectly with my quirky neuroticisms. But I'm certain it did nothing to improve my mental health! In fact, the two quotes of the semester: my English teacher was going on about minute details, as we were editing the school journals for publication, and said, "I know some of you are probably perfectionists..." a student raised his hand and said, "well we wouldn't be in an English editing class if we weren't." Too true. Too true. The second quote was my teacher going on a rant about introversion. She is now one of my favorite teachers because, in that regard, we are basically the same person. But anyways, she said, "here is the scale of extroversion, generally English majors can be found on the far end of that scale, deep in the extroversion sector. But we grammarians, we don't even know what the extroversion scale is!" she walks across the room and draws another scale (6ft away from the extroversion scale) "This is our scale, and we are usually found at the bottom 12% of this scale." Yeah, it resonates.
But I have digressed a little. English is a bloody awful language. Perhaps I'll make a post about how awful it is someday, but that may prove too painful. Too many rules, with far too many exceptions.
I got to edit some pretty interesting pieces though! A few of them I had to write up a contract and swear on my life that I would not divulge their contents, because the authors could legitimately be assassinated if they were/are found, as a result of the contents getting around. Add that to the list of my life peculiarities!
Somehow, somehow, I survived the semester. 14 weeks of pure hell. All work was completed, never missed a single day of school (couldn't afford to). After slaving and working my guts out, I got an 'A' in every single class. my lowest percentage being 94. I still am not sure how it happened, but I did it! Too bad all those 'A's won't really help me at all. I suppose that I learned some things, mainly in the English department, but most of all, I learned that I'm quite a masochist....
Now for the background. This past semester, I decided to experiment with some psychology classes. I've never taken any before but thought it could be a possible career opportunity for me. I also took a personal finance class, and an English editing class. About two weeks in, I was already drowning in homework and realized that history would probably be a better fit for me. I have enjoyed history for as long as I can remember. When I was in elementary, my favorite thing was visiting the library to check out history books on countries and the great battles of history. As I was still before the deadline to drop classes, I looked into trying to drop my classes. I couldn't get into the history classes, so I figured that I'd take the semester off, focus on painting, collaging, working, and other artistic endeavors. However, I was not so fortunate. Thanks to my situation and financial aid, I discovered that I would have to get permission from the dean of each college to drop the class. The likelihood of convincing three deans to allow me to drop the classes—for little reason other than not wanting to do them—seemed rather improbable. Plus I would have had to pay back all of my financial aid. Essentially making it so that I would have to pay almost full tuition to not go to school. Talk about getting screwed by the system!
There I was, trapped in a sinking lifeboat, that was taking on water fast! And to make things even worse, I discovered that none of the credits would count towards any degrees I do unless I choose psychology, then only half of them would count. And, I couldn't simply blow off the classes, or they would lower my GPA significantly. Now I was trapped in a sinking lifeboat, that was taking on water fast, with an enormous wave on the horizon! Completely screwed.
This was by far the busiest semester I have ever taken. Sooooooo much homework! Ever waking minute that I was not at school or work, I spent doing homework—no joke. At one point I legitimately had to tell my parents, "until this semester is over, pretend that I was never born."
The only thing that saved me was not procrastinating. The entirety of fall break was spent doing homework, to try and get ahead. The weeklong Thanksgiving break was also spent doing nothing
but homework. If I wanted to do anything other than homework, like go to dinner with a friend, I had to plan weeks in advance, and try to crank out extra homework to make it happen.
Most unfortunately, 75% of my homework was busy work. But if you don't do the busy work, you don't pass. I liked most of my teachers, and most of my peers, but the class content was either poorly taught and put together, or just wound up being completely useless. For example: my personal finance class was nothing but learning definitions...I didn't learn anything about application. I can tell you what an open-load mutual fund is, but I can't tell you anything about which ones are good, or where/how to invest in one. A complete waste of 14 weeks. Both of my psychology classes were essentially classes on the scientific method. I learned very little in either of those classes. English was my one saving grace. Undoubtedly the hardest class I have ever taken, it was the best of the semester. The nit-picking perfectionism of editing fits in perfectly with my quirky neuroticisms. But I'm certain it did nothing to improve my mental health! In fact, the two quotes of the semester: my English teacher was going on about minute details, as we were editing the school journals for publication, and said, "I know some of you are probably perfectionists..." a student raised his hand and said, "well we wouldn't be in an English editing class if we weren't." Too true. Too true. The second quote was my teacher going on a rant about introversion. She is now one of my favorite teachers because, in that regard, we are basically the same person. But anyways, she said, "here is the scale of extroversion, generally English majors can be found on the far end of that scale, deep in the extroversion sector. But we grammarians, we don't even know what the extroversion scale is!" she walks across the room and draws another scale (6ft away from the extroversion scale) "This is our scale, and we are usually found at the bottom 12% of this scale." Yeah, it resonates.
But I have digressed a little. English is a bloody awful language. Perhaps I'll make a post about how awful it is someday, but that may prove too painful. Too many rules, with far too many exceptions.
I got to edit some pretty interesting pieces though! A few of them I had to write up a contract and swear on my life that I would not divulge their contents, because the authors could legitimately be assassinated if they were/are found, as a result of the contents getting around. Add that to the list of my life peculiarities!
Somehow, somehow, I survived the semester. 14 weeks of pure hell. All work was completed, never missed a single day of school (couldn't afford to). After slaving and working my guts out, I got an 'A' in every single class. my lowest percentage being 94. I still am not sure how it happened, but I did it! Too bad all those 'A's won't really help me at all. I suppose that I learned some things, mainly in the English department, but most of all, I learned that I'm quite a masochist....
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