It wasn’t easy going back to school again. The desks were so small that my notebook barely fit on one. There was no space for my drink but on the floor where people might knock it over because the spaces between the desks was also quite narrow. My bag was hardly sticking out from under my chair and people still found a way to trip over it. The classrooms were so small, and so many of the students smelled of sweat and food. The professors weren’t much better. Most of them somehow struggled to speak with clarity and were, instead, incredibly droll and demanding. They were unnecessarily harsh. Students might write a minimum of so many words or the paper will fail. Rather than grading based on content first and foremost, they focus on how well a student can follow their rules. It felt very much like the ending scenes in Stick It where Haley Graham is explaining to the audience that the judges rule so unfairly during the gymnasts’ epic performances because it’s not about how well they perform, it’s about how well they follow the rules. School is the same. A sad reality.
Boredom was the most prominent and most constant emotion I felt during my time at this mediocre Californian University. I could have moved to Washington by now. I could be writing and reading and catching up on all those movies and shows I’ve been missing because of school, but instead I was stuck sitting in a desk that was making me claustrophobic, trying to act interested and taking notes on what the professor was saying–which was basically nothing–instead of falling asleep. I decided I would drop this class, the one I’m writing this in. Sure, I need it to graduate, but I’m not going to graduate if I fail a class because the instructor is a complete idiot who can’t even check the multiple errors in his syllabus. (How many times do you need to put in that note for disabled people? Four times? Really? And in the middle of stating other things?)
I’ve decided to choose happiness and simplicity over the wretched fast life of California. I’ve got this whole semester ahead of me–this whole boring and embarrassing semester–but them I’m free to live my life as I please in the place of my choosing. I could quit my job in exchange for a better one, in a cafe where the workers and management actually care about their products. I’m not going to waste my time on a stupid class where the teacher isn’t even aware of what he’s spewing out of his pie-hole. I just want to go for walks and get fresh air, and read and write whatever the fuck I want for once.
I want to eat good food and drink good coffee and tea and smile with good friends about stupid stories. I want to get back in shape and feel good about my body again and put my mind at ease. I want to find joy in cooking once more, reignite that long lost passion. I want to enjoy the pursuit of knowledge like I used to. I want to enjoy myself again, and love myself and my life. I want to be happy again. And I’m choosing to sacrifice my degree to lessen my misery at this place called college. It’s a temporary sacrifice anyway.
Someday I’ll be going back to school to get the degree I need for the job I want. But right now, what I need and want is a break from this stupid California life that I’ve been forced to suffer through for these twenty-four years of my life. My life starts again in May. Until then, I’ll do my best with what I’ve got.
Bookends Review 