The week leading up to the first day kept winding down to more anxiety ridden moments. The realization sank in that I would soon be expected to perform in a subject that I haven't explored for nine years! I'd petitioned to bypass any possibility of having to be assessed, because even a simple math assessment test after nine years of lazy computations is simply terrifying. And after day one I started to think that maybe a repeat, a refresher course would have been worth another semester's delay. Boy was day two a game changer! Without any immediate memory of algebra or the $200 latest addition required textbook, I was able to hang onto every notation the professor made and became more confident that being left alone to fend for myself with just a few equations and 20 unanswered problems wasn't a death sentence after all. I even traded a few pages of a good book for two example problems on the bus ride home! And it was then that I remembered why I used to love math.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Back to School
It's been two years since my mini-me and I strutted our stuff across the stage. A collective sense of achievement for many years of hard work and sacrifice. I was part of the "one more class" club, while others belonged to the "one more paper/final/requirement/God WHY would you curse me with a 35 page thesis?" club. I had every intention of closing out my undergrad career the following Summer. I enrolled, went through the first week, and painfully came to the conclusion that without the needed resources (ie: textbook, tutor) my success in the class was gonna be virtually non-existent. Fast forward three Fall semesters and here I am, at the end of week one of my one last class. And guess what? Now is the right time.