I made a choice when the clock struck 12 a while ago.
I decided to skip typing the answers to my take home final exam and just call it quits.
This will not be for long, as I would be given an INC (incomplete) mark, which I will be required to fulfill in a few months. I just bought myself more time to deal with the mediocrity.
Or the professor would go ballistic and give me a resounding bang-bang grade of 5.0. That will be too bad for my transcript.
Anyway, I’m stressed thinking of “should I stay or should I go”, when all I can do is simply choose— continue or leave it. My inner desire to subject myself to moral dilemma, just so I would appear rational to people is definitely not doing good for me. It does some good for my overbearing ego but the stress it causes me is way too annoying to handle. I even hate myself sometimes.
It’s not like I quit my job to jump off a bridge. Or I stripped naked in the middle of Roxas Boulevard and declared my right to suffrage. After an annoying series of pushes and pulls, of decisions and indecisions, of going back and forth—yes, I wasted time when I could have sealed this in a snap months ago.
Although if you think about it, I was not allowed to drop the subjects. What I forgot to explore though is if a student can stress her academic freedom to choose what to do with her courses, regardless of the professor’s stand. Anyway, that alone was the thing I kept on repeating to my mother, kind of like a way for her to validate what she thought of me. That yes, when I say I didn’t want something (or someone?) anymore, to the point that I did a major step to cut it out of me, then you can be assured that that’s it. Out of expected and standard politeness I wouldn’t disagree or argue, but you cannot be assured of my total commitment. For the past weeks I used to leave the house all cranky and riled up because on top of my daily office tasks and its extra-curricular peripheries, I still have my graduate school notes to mind. Even if I received a wonderful gift called promotion (will blog about it separately), the hounding thought of finishing the semester pulls me back to the dark side everytime.
No, it’s not about the subject matter(s). It’s not about the professor (who’s too lenient and not as expecting, mind you) either. They were just the variables in play to stubbornly stress my point that when I said I didn’t want something anymore, it means I didn’t want it anymore. I am not seeing the “it’s a waste” or “you could do it!” or “you should’ve just finished and stop next sem” aspects of the variables. I just don’t want to do something anymore. I have no one to blame but myself anyway.
So it’s a hunderd or so collection of words just to simply relay my news that I will not submit anything as regards my two classes. If I get a 5.0 mark, then so be it. No one dies of a 5.0 grade. If the professor would settle for an incomplete mark, then as I said, I just bought myself a little more time to make peace with concepts as civil-military relations, security sector reform, democratization, military intervention, regional cooperation, principle of non-interference, and more.
So should I just see you guys later? These just constitute the tip of the iceberg. This is a pile of thick photocopied materials, the contextual essence of which I luckily grasped just a few days ago. The yellow pad has all my doodles with what should have been a rough outline of my answers to the exam questions. The old and tattered book is Closer Than Brothers by Alfred McCoy, which should have been the book that I’ll review. Now it was left half-read, and is already past the due date in the Main Library.