gardenrivernymph
After two years in grad school, thousands of dollars in loans, and countless sleepless nights I've realized that I'd rather be have my hands in the soil than have my nose in a book.
After two years in grad school, thousands of dollars in loans, and countless sleepless nights I've realized that I'd rather be have my hands in the soil than have my nose in a book.
Sorry, Mom and Dad, but when I said "law school in Chicago" what I meant was "culinary school in Vegas."
It was only when my English professor started replacing the "said"s with "and was like"s in my assignments that I started to question the worth of my high school diploma.
In fifth grade, a classmate asked me to pull down my pants and when I did, he just pointed, laughed, and walked away.
Standing at the front of the room, I suddenly realize that middle schoolers still intimidate me as much as they ever did when I was in middle school.
She always sends her kindergarden child to a seven and a half hour school day with only 5 chocolate chip cookies as his whole lunch.
I stared into the eyes of a psychopath moments before he killed a girl, shot a dozen people, then took his own life.
Because my 8th grade teacher thought I was lying to him about my name I made my one and only visit to the pricipals office to explain that, "Yes, my name is Steveie and, no, I'm not a boy".
I seem to be the only person that actually didn't go to school on what I thought was a senior cut day.
Packing to go back to school, I can't remember where I hid my handcuffs.
I saw my grandmother's death, the grandmother I had lived with until the seventh grade, as merely an opportunity to miss school.
Because I have an aversion to admitting weakness, I don't have the money to pay for next semester and my parents think it's already paid.
As I sit here, barely listening to a lecture about divesting interests in a mature market, I am suddenly struck with the realization that I don't belong here.
Of all the things for a teacher to overhear me saying in class, "chafed areola" was probably not the best, even in context.
I knew I was pronouncing "island" (is-land) wrong when I discovered the word "isle" in third grade.
As I looked at my old lecture notes, a doctoral thesis in math and physics, I realized: nothing will ever make me feel smart.
I learned today that a kid I used to go to school with was shot in the head and died yesterday.
It was after a string of C and D grade essays that I realized I'd be a blue collar worker after all.
Well, when the weird kid brings a M-16 to school, at least I won't be the first shot.
The fact that I do more work than I need to to avoid going home makes me realize I need to get away for good.
As I struggled with my human anatomy studies, I realized that I now knew the most effective way to slit my wrists.
My dad came to one of our high school track meets and I finished last in the 1000 meter run.
When I mocked the name of Jean-Paul Sartre's daughter in a school presentation, my teacher replied, "Actually, Arlette is my middle name."
I went into the final exam confident, came out confident, and I failed.
Instead of listening to my Economics teacher talk about a decrease in the market demand, I am reading this website.
Just as I was beginning to have hope that maybe life here has meaning, I was reassured that as a student in public high school, I have no rights.
When I handed the final exam back to her, I asked, "Did you study"?
I didn't realize until the Black History Program had already begun that it was probably a bad idea to sit with the Nazi boy.
After recess in Pre-K, I hid behind a big tree so I wouldn't have to go back to class.
It was during a philosophy class, sitting bored and staring at the wall, that I wondered 'Why the hell am I here?'.
I tormented her while she lived but she died and I'm the one left in turmoil.
I should be sleeping, but I keep thinkig about all of the things I need to do, should have done, and about how I don't want to screw everything up.
The only professor I could find who was able to get accounting concepts through my thick skull died three weeks into the semester.
I made a list and crossed out all the subjects that I knew right away I didn't want to major in, and in the end all that was left was Neuroscience, so I went with that.
My parents grounded me while I was in college, three hours from home.
One-time I got in trouble in Religious studies for saying the word "vagina," but talked my way out of it by convincing them I had said "Virgin Mary".
She breezed into my technology class, late and toting a beige shoulder bag, and I knew that some time later she was going to be the most wonderful thing in my life.
When I finished kindergarden I was so excited because I thought it was all the school i would need for the rest of my life.
It was one of those exams that you absolutely must pass if you want to continue in the program, and I failed the set-your-alarm-clock-properly portion.
I was nearly sent to the hospital because I could not convince the school nurse that my head had always been this shape.