Okay, slight hyperbole. I stayed far from the grip of death (unless you consider how risky driving in Tulsa is).
I started the semester with four classes: Utopian Literature, Psychology of Infancy and Child Development, Personal Health, and Math for Critical Thinking. The latter two were online courses.
About halfway through the semester, I dropped the math class. Apparently online is not the best method for one’s weakest subject. Personal Health should have been easy, but I allowed myself to become disorganized and missed two tests. The Psych class was too easy. I aced it without even cracking my text book.
Utopia is what nearly did me in, though. The reading schedule required several hundred pages per week, which is common for literature courses, and I did not keep up. This led to low quiz scores and my inability to finish all of my reflection papers. It would be easy to fall back on the excuse of a busy schedule for my low performance in this class (full-time job, family obligations, etc.), but I’ll be honest. I just wasn’t motivated.
My motivation problem could be attributed to the depression cycle I fell into during the semester. The last few months have been very difficult personally, and my course work is only one casualty. If you follow this blog regularly, you know that this is my first update in quite some time. I also haven’t been writing much poetry. My paperwork at the day job has been late, which isn’t unusual, but it’s even been late when it could’ve been on time.
I don’t mean this to be a pity party. You’ll be happy to know that I’ve begun feeling much better during the past couple weeks. I hope this is the upswing out of depression. To those to whom I’ve been an ass lately, accept my sincere apologies. To those who’ve expected things from me that I haven’t come through on, I’m sorry.
This semester didn’t kill me, so now it’s time for me to start living like I mean it.
Cheers,
Randall
