So I wrote my last post, finished today's Greek homework, then read the contents of the link below. You should read it. It's that good.
http://teampyro.blogspot.com/2008/03/jesus-and-his-trick-questions.html
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
a very, very, very long day
The subject says it all. I'm back at NSA after a spring break full of horseiness and being outside in lovely spring weather, and riding and touching horses, and breathing horses, and reading fiction; generally NOT doing anything school related. Now I'm back. Break is over.
Emphatically over.
I've done enough homework today to last me the rest of the term, yet I haven't even scratched the surface. Greek is a ginormous mountain casting its dark shadow over my every step. It has been my major task of the day, but according to Mr. Schwandt, everything I've done so far is merely "homework prep." *blink* It was raining all day. That probably had something to do with it. But there comes a point when some place you once loved becomes wearisome because of hours and hours you've spent there doing homework. And more homework and more homework. I go to Bucer's, buy coffee, then leave and study elsewhere. I've spent a year and a half studying there. No more, my friend. I now haunt One World, the coffee shop on the other side of town. Its walls are not stained with memories of Latin, Lordship, History, Greek, Rhetoric, Natural Philosophy. Not yet, anyway.
Don't get me wrong. I'm very much enjoying the things we're going over this term. Theology has already enraptured me (not that doing so was especially difficult), History is looking good. But my lands. The homework is - interestingly challenging. And this is Day 2. Not Week 2. Day 2.
Onward forward. Thank God for music.
Emphatically over.
I've done enough homework today to last me the rest of the term, yet I haven't even scratched the surface. Greek is a ginormous mountain casting its dark shadow over my every step. It has been my major task of the day, but according to Mr. Schwandt, everything I've done so far is merely "homework prep." *blink* It was raining all day. That probably had something to do with it. But there comes a point when some place you once loved becomes wearisome because of hours and hours you've spent there doing homework. And more homework and more homework. I go to Bucer's, buy coffee, then leave and study elsewhere. I've spent a year and a half studying there. No more, my friend. I now haunt One World, the coffee shop on the other side of town. Its walls are not stained with memories of Latin, Lordship, History, Greek, Rhetoric, Natural Philosophy. Not yet, anyway.
Don't get me wrong. I'm very much enjoying the things we're going over this term. Theology has already enraptured me (not that doing so was especially difficult), History is looking good. But my lands. The homework is - interestingly challenging. And this is Day 2. Not Week 2. Day 2.
Onward forward. Thank God for music.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
soaring into finals week
I'm sitting on the floor surrounded by notebooks, papers (both loose and stapled), books, power chords for laptop, printer and cell phone charger, my jacket slung over the bedpost, messenger bag slumped awkwardly against the dresser where it was dropped on Friday evening; my sanity is slowly being bent to my will.
Math will come, ere I perish. I will know the formulas inside out and backwards by Wednesday or I'll, I'll, I don't know what I'll, because I will know them.
So will Greek, History and Theology. I'm not sure how it happens, but finals come every term and so far I've come through 6 of them and I'm still alive, albeit feeling a bit like a veteran of some sort of bizarre war with weaponry that consists of bombs made of study sheets and empty coffee to-go cups.
Laugh not. Rather recognize that beneath the calm exterior of apparent confidence and laid back assurance, we are all frantically cramming in the last bits of knowledge that will enable us to dazzle our professors and enter yet another term of NSA.
Math will come, ere I perish. I will know the formulas inside out and backwards by Wednesday or I'll, I'll, I don't know what I'll, because I will know them.
So will Greek, History and Theology. I'm not sure how it happens, but finals come every term and so far I've come through 6 of them and I'm still alive, albeit feeling a bit like a veteran of some sort of bizarre war with weaponry that consists of bombs made of study sheets and empty coffee to-go cups.
Laugh not. Rather recognize that beneath the calm exterior of apparent confidence and laid back assurance, we are all frantically cramming in the last bits of knowledge that will enable us to dazzle our professors and enter yet another term of NSA.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
