Shamleless Plug

I'm embarking on a new part of my life that is happier and going in a direction! It's really refreshing.

I was married May 19th, 2012 to a great guy I met at the C.I.A and we're go excited to embark on a life together. He has as culinary degree to match my baking and pastry degree. It's going to be a Good life.

I hope you enjoy my thoughts on food and cooking. I am but a humble baker, who happens to love cooking and embraces the joy of food.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Writings from my Accounting Notebook

I hate Wednesdays. It’s the hardest day of the week. I’m in class all day, and then have Finance for three hours. It sucks. The day itself isn’t bad. I’m perfectly capable to handle classes from 8am-6:15 pm without a problem. That’s not what’s wrong with the day. It’s Finance. I have to go minute by minute to survive. I tick time off every time I think a minute goes by. I try to pay attention, but my mind drifts to writing, or musical numbers. I’m usually okay until a quarter to eight. Then I slowly begin to crack. But it’s for many reasons:
1) I’ve been in class all day
2) I usually don’t have much time to grab a meal, let alone eat one (but I’ve managed to work around that pretty well, so it doesn’t fully count)
3) I’ve taken my Concerta around 7:15 that morning, so by 7:45 after a day of constant classes, it’s safe to assume I’m running on “Concerta fumes”, and have the holding it together capabilities of a child.
4) It’s a THREE hour class at 6:30 at night! It’s cruel to assume that a student (the majority of whom has been in class since the morning) can sit in a math class, at night for three hours and expect active learning and listening.
5) My professor is a liar and a tease. Somewhere between 8:30 and 9, he says “Okay guys, 15 more minutes” (or ten, or five) and we relax, thinking it’s the home stretch and we might just make it. Five, ten, fifteen minutes goes by and he segues into something new. Or he starts to sound like class is winding down; “Okay, so this is what to expect on the test next week.” In a tone of voice that’s wrapping it up. But no, he continues on to a slowly dying class. Last week, it was about 9pm, I was going out of my mind. Trying desperately to hold it together, preserving my sanity by writing. He begins to sound like class is just about over, but he hands out forms, tax forms to be exact- oddly similar to the ones we looked at the last class….and painstakingly went over each little point. Augh! The he takes attendance. My friends who already took that class promised me class almost never went past 9pm. I never let myself think that, because if I do, it’ll never happen. It hasn’t happened yet. Not even on the first day.
I’m incapable of learning math. My mind focuses on the wrong things. I can’t follow the trains of thought since my mind already thinks in such different patterns anyway.
I’ll pass if it kills me. I’m graduating on time. I’m not going to suffer through another math class.
I’m in accounting right now, it’s Thursday and I find that after a grueling day such as Wednesday, 90 minutes of accounting is bliss. Not like I get what’s going on, but it’s terribly better to sit through, even with a class as rude and disrespectful as mine.