I Don’t Really Hate Math, Of Course

I feel like I bit off more than I can chew, taking two math classes at once. Either way, it would have been two classes at the same time, but I might have paired it better if only one class was a math class, and they weren’t both 15 weeks long. The next 15 weeks are going to be stressful.

The thing is, I know I can handle it. I’m scared I can’t, but that’s how I am. I never give myself credit.

What I don’t know is if I’ll survive this term with a perfect 4.0. I’m having to let go of some impossible standards. There are only so many times I can work a problem before I give up and admit defeat. Defeat isn’t the end of the world. It only feels like it is. Defeat simply means I need a little help and that’s ok. It has to be. I’m not perfect.

I’m not perfect.

Which the insane part is I long ago accepted I’m not perfect, and yet I hold myself to the standard of perfection when it comes to my academics. I know it’s because I know I’m capable of great things. But I’m still only human. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m human and I make mistakes. Or I simply don’t understand everything with perfect clarity. And that’s ok. The standard I hold myself to is an impossible standard and that standard is not ok.

I repeat, mostly to myself because I’m the one not listening, holding myself to a standard of perfection is not ok. It’s not healthy. It has me obsessing over every miserable point loss, and spending hours reviewing what I already know because I’m afraid I’ll forget something come test time.

I can’t do this to myself. I’m fighting a hard enough battle as it is, why do I insist on purposely making it worse?

I need to stop.

So.

So what if I get a B? That’s still above average. It’s a passing grade. It’s more than acceptable to any rational human being.

My perfect 4.0 won’t last forever. At least it’ll be better if it’s because I’m not perfect, versus not doing the work. I’m putting in the effort. It shows. I’m getting the vast majority of the material even. I’m just… tired? Not perfect. And in my mental and physical exhaustion, I make mistakes,

I might even pull off an A in both classes. All this stress over my GPA might be for naught. Either way, I need to just let it go. Accept what is and let go of what can’t be.

I just. This is hard for me.

All I am right now is a student. I don’t have a job to excel in. I have motherhood, of course, but that isn’t all I am. School is what is taking me away from my kids so I at least need to make the best of it. Be the best at it. No. Just do my best.

I need to do my best and accept that no one’s best is perfection. No one is perfect. I need to accept I’m certainly not the exception.

It’s a Metaphor

Have you ever just known you were solving a math problem wrong but you were so far in you just had to see where it took you just incase, but 10 minutes later you’ve confirmed it had to have been wrong all along? Oh, and you’re not sure when exactly it went wrong?  Sometimes you have all the skills but you just don’t know when or how to use them.  Sometimes you had the skills but that was like a decade ago, and best of luck with that.  Sometimes you never had the math skills, the individual how-tos and you’re just plain stuck.  Sometimes even with all the skills math still throws radicals, insane fractions, and irrationals your way.  It’s all mathematically correct, but it makes zero sense and is just a mess.

Also: this can all be a metaphor for life and suddenly you can relate to my math struggles.

Ah well. I’m going to try isolating the other radical and see what happens.

Straight A’s

Straight A’s are nice, but I think I’d rather have friends.  I’m not saying I have to choose one over the other, but that’s only because I’m too awkward to make friends and I can’t help having all the correct answers.  I do need to get better at keeping my trap shut though.  They are downright rude about it.  Which is fine.  But you don’t get to be rude to me about me knowing this shit, and then ask me for help.  Nope.

Sorry.  Needed to rant.

Algebra

My algebra professor is the only person I’ve ever met who loves math more than me.  And she’s obnoxious with it!  Like if I’m even half as obnoxious, I owe a lot of apologies.  Also, she uses her powers for evil.

I will say she’s well-educated.  She has her bachelor’s, master’s and a doctorate in math so I can respect that but…

I think it’s her teaching style.  My last math professor was also a high school teacher.  While he didn’t treat us like high schoolers, you could still see his background in how he taught.  It was respect for the student mixed with respect for the student’s struggle with the subject.  I didn’t struggle, but I still appreciated the teaching style.  It made it all the easier and enjoyable.

My current math professor has only ever taught adults and she has no interest in acknowledging that she might need to slow down a notch, or explain something better.  We’re working on something even I have to stop and think about so it’s frustrating to be rushed through it.

Will I pass the class?  Yes.  With an A?  Probably.  But I don’t like her teaching style and I doubt I’ll do as well as I assumed.

I don’t know.  It’s only been one class and I’m currently sick.  Hopefully I’ll like her more as time passes and once my brain isn’t all foggy with sick, I’ll be able to go with the flow better.

Shot in the Ass

So I’m in the midst of my yearly case of bronchitis.  I’ve already been seen for it.  I got my yearly dose of steroids in shot form right to the right bum cheek.  I got a brand new inhaler.  I’m already feeling much better, though I still have my cough.  But at least I can mostly breath.

All this is to say I’m behind in life and I’m literally typing this more than half an hour after it’s due to post and I usually write at least a couple of days in advance.  I owe you a post on my algebra class, that’ll have to come Wednesday.  I just need to play catch up on life.  Mostly on algebra itself.