Also shamelessly aimless

Somedays, I nearly give myself a hernia trying to accomplish everything I do within that sometimes torturously small span of 24 hours. I look at some peers of mine and I have to know–when did you start doing speed/cocaine?  Sincerely.  Playing belle étudiante only occurs naturally and cheerily 3 out of the 5 days I attend classes.  And out of those classes, I will be on fiyah in the lecture about 3 out of the 4 or 5 I have each day.  I’m only taking 16 hours but the recent addition of my new job with Notes & Quotes and I’m sporting dark undereye circles like it’s a trend.  My responsibility lies in the realm of auditing heavily populated (I really wanted to say “poop-ulated” just now) undergraduate courses that I last took my freshman yearmeans that not ONLY am I learning. 

Mama is earning

The sad fact is that perhaps there isn’t much of a clientele for that sort of gig; the moneymaker for my employer comes from subscriptions to my lecture notes.  It seems hardly lucrative and almost sketchy, but I can see the notes working as a supplement, oh, most definitely.  If a student cares enough to secure their grade’s future by paying money, it may be despicable but it’s not as if they aren’t learning.  The fruit is just as sweet–you just get it from a different market.  Plus, if someone truly just wanted to skip, they would skip and forget about class altogether, not seek out lecture notes and pay money.  They’d already be wasting plenty of money by not going to class.  And having been there myself, fresh undergraduates are not the best note-takers. 

I don’t really know why I’m enumerating the excuses, because the success of the program only matters to me to an extent.  It’s a requirement to hand out flyers, though, and pimp myself out, essentially.  Well, crap.  I’m going to have to tape lollipops to the flyers to get those kids to even look at the papers.  Is that pessimistic? I’m really just concerned about what an awfully advantageous job I have, and that doesn’t even constitute concern.  It’s a big smile instead of a big frown. It’s almost dumb luck!

What’s funny is that I have never been enrolled in a class that started at 8 am until now.  And I love it.  I yawn every second, but I love it.  You know, ya just ain’t doing it right if you’re not exhausted by the end of the day, my friend Emily likes to say.  Or maybe she doesn’t like to say.  Maybe she just said it that one time, and maybe she hated every second of it.  Nah, I keed.

But isn’t it silly how you can say words that may not mean that much to you but someone else may find it to be aural moral gold?  I’m sure professors feel that way a lot.  “You said such-and-such once, you know.”  Those words have even left my lips several times.  I wonder if half the time it’s stuff they don’t even believe themselves at times. 

A quote from B.F. Skinner’s Walden Two says it best: “I could understand why young and irresponsible spirits might forget much of what I had taught them, but I could never reconcile myself to the uncanny precision with which they recalled unimportant details.  My visitors, returning at commencement time, would gape with ignorance when I alluded to a field that we had once explored together –or so I thought– but they would gleefully remind me, word for word, of my smart reply to some question from the class or the impromptu digression with which I had once filled out a miscalculated hour.  I would have been glad to agree to let them all proceed henceforth in complete ignorance of the science of psychology, if they would forgret my opinion of chocolate sodas or the story of the amusing episode on a Spanish streetcar.”

What’s that, you say?  What was all that nonsense?  Most importantly, when did they start making chocolate sodas?!

Ah, but then there are those rare days where I sit glassy-eyed and could very well be invisible (in my own classes).  Yesterday was one of those days.  It will surprise you how very possible it is to dedicate about an hour’s worth of lecture to coming up with new tongue twisters. 

Seamus and Amos are shamelessly aimless.  

Perhaps Pearl has purring cats in perfect purses.   

Bob, you later discombobulated little ladle discs. 

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One comment on “Also shamelessly aimless”

  1. I say that all the time!


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