I told myself I will not whine as much and I will take everything as it comes. It’s very hard given my personality but I will try. Really hard.
Tonight wrapped up the first meetings of my 3 classes. So much for getting-to-know-yous, which aren’t really important in graduate school. You say something about yourself in 30 seconds and that’s it. On to the course work. On to the hotbed of hell.
I’m just glad that I know people in my class, having them as former classmates. It’s nice to catch up with each other. To know what’s who doing now, where did who has gone to. Still, that’s it. After 10 minutes of mindless chit-chats, you go on to the rigors of the course.
During the very first class on Monday, I told myself that reading two to three books as required wouldn’t be as hard. Two days later, I’m about to hit my head on the wall until it bleeds because that’s three subjects, which translates to thrice the effort to read tripled number of books. Aha.
Of course, it helps to come to the first sessions because you almost always get to choose your preferred topic for the seminar (either as the presentor or the discussant), ergo being able to fit it in your calendar on top of other very relevant duties as a working animal. It worked well until tonight. The very gentle professor, finding no one volunteering to report on the first topic in the syllabus, meekly suggested that she would like to pick someone to do it. My classmates have chosen their own topics which would be reported in December and I didn’t say anything because I have my hands full already until the year ends – so I’m gunning for a topic, any topic, as long as it’s still going to be next year.
With the way this post is going, you probably have guessed what happened.
Dr. OC (that’s her real initials, man) : Nobody would like to volunteer on (insert first topic)?
Class : (silence)
Dr. OC : So, can I just volunteer someone? Come on class, it’s relatively easy (yes, Ma’am, for you)
Class : (non-human murmurs)
Dr. OC : Ms. Octavo, I think you can take the first topic.
Me : (blank stare)
Dr. OC : (My office library) is all to your yourself, you can pull this off.
Me : Okay, Ma’am. Sure.
I vowed to lessen exerting myself in most situations (a.ka. making epal) but this one needed me to just say I can’t, my hands are full, I would like to report on something next year!
But I didn’t. I’m such a pushover.
So it means I’ll be visiting my office library more often now. I love libraries but as much as possible, I try to compartmentalize my priorities. That includes not doing anything grad school-related while at work, and not thinking nor talking of anything about work while I’m in school. Sometimes, I’m even tempted to lie about where I work just so I would avoid talking about it or answering questions about it, queries which would be rude to answer with, “Can you just go visit our website?” If not only for my credibility, I’ve been tempted to say I’m a housewife para lang wala nang usapang mahaba. Not unless someone is one too because recipes and curtain talks would probably follow.
This better be worth it. Putting off next year, re-scheduling it after the next presidential elections, should really be worth it.
The funny part of this is I, only I, get to decide if this will be worth putting-off-plans for or not. That’s what hell is all about.