At the ripe old age of twenty-one I am completely burnt out on academics.
I realised this today.
I finally faced Prof H (and managed not to cry, thank g-d, even tho he made me feel about an inch tall) and then took the paperwork to the Registrar. Where I was informed that I needed Prof H to “fill out a RGR form”. At which point I nearly started crying (again) and pitched a slight fit.
NO ONE had mentioned there was additional paperwork. I was told, twice, that I only needed to fill out the “this form and bring it back”. Which I did.
So, I ended up sitting down with a counselor who explained that they needed a RGR because H had specified a grade. (I had earned a B-)
Umm, hello???, I’m changing it from P/N to graded! One would think there was a grade involved!
No, I did not scream this at her. But, I wanted to. They wanted me to face H again, and possibly worse (with more paperwork). Apparently, there’s a difference between fulfilling my major and degree requirements. One would think they’re linked, but apparently not.
I was musing on all of this, as I was practically ushered out of the Registrar (yes, I am close to hysteria, why do you ask?), and realised that never again will I convince myself to care about my GPA.
In the Fall 2003 term, I was diagnosed with severe clinical depression and put on Welbutrin. It was bad. The meds, everything. So, I decided to take one class (the one dragging me down) P/N. That way, if I got a B or worse (heaven forbid!) it wouldn’t affect my GPA. I was told that it wouldn’t matter, anyway, because it could be ignored or I could fulfill the requirement another way. No way in hell. Never.
No. More. Classes.
2.5 years later, and I could give a fVck. I had cared, then, because I was certain that at this point I’d be accepted to either an Ivy or UMIST and on my way to eternal textile archaeology glory. I was a bit foolish at 19, I suppose.
But, this morning, I realised that even were Harvard or UMIST to accept me and offer me a GTF position – I wouldn’t take it. I’m way to burnt out. I need a respite. I hate academics and don’t want to look at another textbook, exam, or term paper for a couple of years.
It’s always mind-boggling to come to a conclusion like this. I’m a bit mystified. Taking such a 180 is stressful, but I didn’t even realise it was happening. But, it also occured to me, that playing serf to 3 (not one! but 3) departments might have been the direct cause of this.
I need to remember that when I finally consider grad school. UMIST is sounding better and better. They have a Textile Archaeology department. No more interdisciplinary/ multiple departments/ slave-drivers and loyalties things.
Okay. I’m going to the Dungeon, to finish that bloody costume. And, possibly, to eat some pie.