Here's the thing, I don't think I did that well on the test two weeks ago, and I have to go buy a periodical so I can do my homework, and I am supposed to give a presentation this morning based on that horrifically boring paper I wrote two weeks ago. Plus my professor doesn't actually lecture. He just sort of rambles on about world affairs and his army days. It's interesting, but, well, not more interesting or productive than any one-sided conversation I could have here that I wouldn't have to do homework to prepare for.
I'm really beginning to think that this quarter system is best for me. The simple fact that there are only eleven class meetings really does help. There's no middle-of-the-semester drag. I can usually be counted upon to rally for the beginning and end of the term. It's those six weeks in the middle that tend to destroy my GPA. Now there are only two. I think it's a big help. Because otherwise, in a class like this, I would be doomed. There's no way I could talk myself into attending.
Except that I still don't want to go to class today. I mean, I would gladly go for like, maybe two hours. I can't take notes effectively since I can barely hold a pen with this giant fucking splint on my finger. It's raining and that makes my arthritis so bad that it woke me up from an otherwise peaceful sleep. We're going to spend an hour going over our homework which is simply a commentary on some article from a periodical. There are six people in the class, and no one ever picks anything that interests me remotely (including myself).
My professor knows my mother's entire family and I'm the only one who participates and half the time I'm too half asleep to contribute anything of substance and basically after two hours the class degenerates into an hour of dialogue between me and the professor during which we disagree five times and he wins because, well, he's the one who knows what he's talking about and I'm the one who is just trying to stop the uncomfortable silence. These hours are broken up by ten minute breaks during which I spill my coffee.
Oh yeah, and most of the time we don't get started until at least half an hour after I arrive because those five other people are always late.
I'm going to go. I have to go. Attendance and participation count here and my professor definitely knows who I am considering that he used my grandfather's penchant for chewing on cigars as an example in class. So he'll notice if I'm gone. And not attending class because the last test didn't go well is certainly no way to make sure the next test does. Plus there's that presentation hanging over my head.
Emma and I have been talking a lot lately about how easy it is to forget that showing up really does count for something. We both tend to get into situations where an "if it's worth doing, it's worth doing well" attitude quickly translates into "if you're not going to do well, you might as well just not do it.". But a bad, boring presentation still counts for more than no presentation. A "C" is better than a 0%.
I'm telling myself that since the professor assigned the topic, surely he's interested in it. Plus, I can usually pull out a fairly decent presentation from nowhere. I tend to forget that not everyone had to take four years of oration classes to get out of high school. My paper wasn't bad. It was just dry. There might be hope for this yet.
I think I am going to go to school and then claim to have a doctor's appointment related to my finger so I can leave early. Because I'm not going to learn anything after ten am, and I'm not going to be graded on anything after ten am....
