Starting School

Spring semester was a mess because my wedding was the week after finals, and we were trying to move. Cleanup out of our old apartment tooks weeks rather than days. I was so frazzled that I didn’t know what to do with myself. My wedding is a crazy blur. I’m glad it was just a backyard barbecue, I would have never been able to handle a church wedding and a reception and all that goes along with all that.

Since Patrick got sick and we have medical bills from that, we weren’t sure if I was going back to school in the Fall or if I should work full time and go back to school in the spring, or next semester. We finally decided that I should go back, but I was worried about going back so late. So I procrastinated. Finally, two weeks before school started, I went in and took care of my loan paperwork. Silly me for waiting. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was in and out and done in less than 40 minutes. We’re still waiting for the loans to come in, but they’re coming.

My school history is convoluted with unintelligent acts of beaurocracy. I’ll be something like a 6th or 7th year senior by the time I am done. UAA has requirements that others did not, so I’m not worried about that part of it, but all of my classes for my English major transfered as electives and not regular classes, and I would have been in my fourth semester before I could even TAKE an English class here. Furthermore, the English department notified me that I would have to take another three years of classes because of the rotational schedule and requirements. I told them to go fuck themselves, and I transfered to a history degree (which was my minor). All of my history credits transfer, and some of my English classes transfer to the history department, and even with the extra classes, I’ll still be done in about a year and a half. Thank goodness.

I’m retaking a math class. that. I’ve. taken. twice. before. The first time, fine. I understand math does not transfer well between schools, and the discalcula makes testing difficult for me. The second time? My math teacher withdrew me from the class at the very end of the semester. There were some odd circumstances, but the bottom line is that if she did not withdraw me, I would have finished with a high B. I petitioned, but she refused, saying that “the paperwork was just too much trouble.” I reported her to the dean of students, but regardless of the action taken, I would have had to do the class over, so I dropped it. So I’m retaking this math class, and I’m bored as hell. Fortunately my teacher is really funny. Or there’s something funny about him. Either way, I can coast through it and leave mental energy for the rest of my classes.

All of this combines into me being worried about my classes. I’ve felt really off my game, slow to think, and frozen with indecision. Like the math class, one by one they’re revealing themselves to be less intimidating than I thought, and genuinely enjoyable. This is the true state of things: I love to learn things, and I like the classroom. I think it’ll be a-ok.

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