Today has been an odd duck of a day. I had one goal today, write my term paper for the class I can’t stand for the professor I don’t respect. This means that for me this is not something that I want to do. This in fact makes this work. Writing is not work for me. This is work for me.
I had the single goal of by now having the entire 10 page rough draft written out and by now be working on the edits, finalizing the text, inserting citations, and being done. A, B, C, D, or F I do not really care. That is how disgusted I am with this class. My usual over the top pride in my work has not kicked in either. Sure there is a twinge of guilt when I read what I have written, but I do not want to waste any more of my time. I just don’t.
It is possible that by the end my pride in my work will kick in and I will make an awesome paper and give an awesome presentation. However at this moment I am seriously leaning towards wadding my paper up and throwing it at the professor while I give my presentation which starts with, “Aside from you and you (pointing directly at two students) the rest of you should seriously give a thought to dropping out and finding a minimum wage job at a fast food restaurant or someone to marry because none of you are worth a shit.” I won’t do that. I want to do that. No scratch that what I really want to do is call their parents and let their parents know that little Johnny and little Betty have missed close to three or in one case four WEEKS of class. Me? I have not missed a single day. In fact I was even there when the professor decided to take a day off. Thus my attendance is perfect and I know the material.
So with that one, single, solitary goal in mind do you know how much I got done?
None. Well that is not true I got roughly 400 hundred words typed out which interestingly enough is about how many words there are here. Why do I have a similar amount of words here and in under 10 minutes when a full 10 hours of work have passed by? Chalk it up to my children. Originally I only had one child, but she would not stop talking and she for whatever reason could not occupy herself like she usually does. Even allowing her to watch her shows did not work. I can work through some noise, but non-stop chattering kills my train of thought.
Want to guess when I got my 400 words done? If you guessed when Barb took her to get the boy from school. That brief amount of time I banged out a bunch of words. Then both children were home and inspite of being asked to be quiet, to leave dad alone, to occupy themselves neither of them could do so. Well that is not true…while I was cooking dinner my girl assisted and my boy occupied himself.
Then…cue ominous music…I sat down to work on my paper, my fingers touched the keypad I typed “Th…$#^QOENW!!!!” as suddenly my boy HAD to ask me a question. A question SO important that he had to ask ME. Not his mother who has been sitting in a chair “working” on the same email for close to two hours. No he HAD to ask me.
Now I have my peace and quiet. I blew my top. The kids are playing upstairs and I feel like an ass.
Did I mention I got new glasses?
See odd duck.