We all know the tantric technique of just breathing in order to get through each and every day, but we especially rely on it to count down the minutes until graduation. You’re constantly in this state of, “Okay, one day down, just a few more to go,” while barely paying attention to anything the professor is saying. It’s exactly how I was feeling today.
Let’s take a moment to look at just how much fun last semester was. I had the same professor for two classes who mentally stimulated me to the point where all I wanted to do was read, read, and read some more in order to keep adding to the long tedious conversations about stylistic choices and thematic techniques. It was so fun pulling apart the many styles of fiction, especially that of the first person. I also had a poetry class where I spent an entire workshop critically analyzing pieces.
It was a never-ending cycle of analysis, appreciation, and advising. It was amazingggggggg. Then there was Italian, super mentally stimulating because it was the 300 level, the last classes needed for my foreign language requirement (yes, I’m fluent) and humiliating in some moments. All of those classes curated nothing more than a semester of passion, pleasure, and bits of pain all while working, blogging, and novelizing. I couldn’t get enough of it. It was like biting into the juiciest piece of fruit and then feeling refreshed.
I binge ate classes during the summer, maxing out the number of credits I could take while working. The summer was torture because I wasn’t mentally stimulated by any of the classes since they were common sense psychology classes. And by common sense I mean, common. sense. I didn’t have to think too hard in order to get an A in two of them.
And, now, here we are my final semester… I am bored. None of the syllabus days have made me appreciate just what I’m walking into. Each of them is nothing more than a breeze, I feel as if I’m wasting my time sitting in these classrooms. I keep saying to myself, “just four more months,” but I’m not pleased, at all. In fact, I think the semester is going to be too laid back. I’ve been anticipating a challenge and all of my classes are nothing more than more reading, more writing, and worst yet, more group projects.
When I registered for these I knew I needed them for the second half of my Interdisciplinary degree but I don’t want these anymore. Yes, I love writing, it’s my passion, but I also like the technicalities behind the trade. Such things include:
None of these classes are appealing in those areas so I’ve just been sitting in all of the syllabi days feeling over it all.
It could be because I can’t wait to get to grad school. These days of more writing and more reading has proven that I don’t need an MFA grad program in Creative Writing. I need something a step above that, so, my first choice is NYU’s Masters of Publishing. I want to understand the business of the publishing. I want to learn new material, give me new information so that I can do newer things. And, that’s just how my cookie is crumbling today.
Categories: Recent On Essays