I've said it before, and will no doubt end up saying it again: formal education and I are not friends. My textbooks arrived weeks off from when they should have, so I have been behind. I ended up dropping Psychology because I didn't have enough time in the day to get everything done and still eat and sleep and get my volunteer hours in. I'm behind in Lit & Comp and Calc, and I find I have less and less reason to care about getting anything completed. The only thing driving me right now is my perfectionism. I probably have a better understanding of the material than anyone else taking the classes, but the work is so inane and lacking in challenging thought-processes that I don't want to do it. It's all procedure and keeping numbers to me. None of it means anything. It's not a reflection on me, it's not helping me grow; it's just a way to keep tabs on me. So, I sigh heavily, drink a lot of coffee, listen to a lot of Beethoven and Saul Williams, and grit my teeth while I move my pencil. I keep staring grudgingly ahead of my laptop screen at my bookshelf, eying all of the things I could be learning while they purposely eat up my time with this shit. I feel like a little kid staring out the window in class at the playground when I see my bolded Hunter S. Thompson and Robert Anton Wilson titles with uncracked spines.

Somebody save me from formatted essaying and numbered quizzes.