By 8:31 my mind was elsewhere. I could hardly find in me the strength to stay awake, let alone the concentration to pick up any of the four-billion words the professor blurted out. I tried to distract myself with facebook, twitter, and blogging, but to my unpleasant surprise, all of the above failed and I contemplated suicide followed by dropping out of University. Right in that order.
It is not a usual habit of mine to b**** about school or the number of books I have to read. I don’t even b**** about the seven-page essays that I did the night before due-date and shamefully scored an ‘A’ on. I don’t b**** about the 90 kilometer walk roll in outdoor traveling, and I don’t even b**** about being stuck in useless electives. The reason I don’t b**** about these things is because I am starting to develop a profound love for education.
But I must admit, that every now and then, it would be nice to avoid the contemplation of suicide at 8:30 in the morning, after I’ve rolled to the other side of campus in frigid weather conditions and pitch black dark an hour before. Also, I am not a grade three student and I don’t wanna learn about the group of seven. I want to analyze and dissect complex philosophies, novels, and concepts, and I want to write. More than that, I want to be away from the children that bathe in cheap cologne at six in the morning and then strongly insist on sitting next to me.
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