just Thursday

Some where in my jagged life a Wednesday passed me by and left me wanting more, like the last drag of a minty menthol Marlboro when you know that you don’t have another pack waiting for you in the car.

School starts tonight.

Do I dread the next 10 weeks of calculating distances of trains and studying numbers like they are half as cool as my new silk Michael Kors hand bag?

Yes and No.

Yes because I have had such horrible experiences with my last handful of math educators. I really could care less for the mathematician super stars that Forsyth employs. They are angry individuals that some where along the logarithm lost the passion for which they began teaching, and they feel it is their duty in life to beat exponents down the raw throats of community college students. They are angry individuals that have seen the bright star of their potential super model, rock star, astronaut careers slip through their fingers. I am sorry for them that they didn’t end up down the path of equal 2 by 4 bricks to the emerald city. I am sorry that their bitterness flies from their mouths, body language and lands in our laps. I truly am. I wish all my instructors the life they always wanted. Some where along the line they had to want to teach didn’t they? Did they want to give back to the future, productive members of society or was it simply their life goal to take their nerdiness and project it on to those that haven’t discovered their paths? School attendance is a choice. Just because there is only one community college in a town that doesn’t mean it is the only community college accessible to the masses. Living in a town with three colleges Forsyth must know that they have competition. That eventually their antics of feeding off those that drop off days after they could have gotten a 100% tuition reimbursement will have to end. Because we are a service based world where we the students, tax payers and sadly breeders expect to get our monies worth and we should. Student bodies aren’t what put out the sexy co-ed calendars each year, they should be the group of folks that stand up and say what is right on campus, and say what is wrong with out the southern hospitality that they have grown to know and love.

No, I don’t look forward to school for all the reasons and more that I have listed above and simply when you compare the sheen of the handbag to the rugged corners of my College Algebra book you too would pick the handbag. Sure it might be hard to ever find shoes that match it dead on but it has all these clever pockets that I will never use and when it comes right down to it, I love the smell of new purse. The satin smell is better than fresh peanut butter cookies.

So my Thursday will continue and I will be the good student taking her second shot at math and take myself and the rugged corner algebra book to campus tonight, but don’t you even think that I will attempt to park in a “legal” spot I will continue my quiet rebellion as I sneak into campus and find a nice, close spot labeled “staff” and ease in my no-longer clean white car, hit the door lock button and stroll slowly up to class. Heck if things go really well and I am halfway on time I might even grab the nectar of the gods (as you may plainly call it, starbucks) and suckle it down while I start the new semester.

Wish me luck.