Grad school...I guess

I told someone that I was going to write about grad school next, but I can't much remember what I was going to ramble about. I don't think that I've written about grad school much? So here are some random thoughts; we'll see if this goes anywhere.

***I just don't really dig poetry. I appreciate what it is and can see why some people get into it, but not me I guess. I'm taking a class on the British Romantics right now, which I was, honestly, pretty excited about getting into it since I previously didn't have a great understanding about it. A bit, but not enough. Alas, boring class. All poetry all the time and the professor who likes to hold us over every time (argh...it's after 9 and I still have to drive an hour home and then get up at 5:30 to actually work tomorrow!!).

***Never ending presentations. These are seriously boring to sit through. Hence, boring class. Too much time is spent listening to classmates rather than the person who actually has the doctorate. And seriously, we're in grad school. We don't need to do worksheets or watch "movies" of classmates reading Coleridge and Wordsworth. What am I learning by this presentation?

***The 10-12 page paper that has *almost* been the hardest paper ever. It seems easy compared to the 80 or so pages I had last semester, but arrrrrrrr-gh. No motivation. Why? Why why why? I have things to do! I have to get this done sooner rather than later! I have plans to make! I'm frustrated at me and my procrastination habit. It goes something like this every time. Get the assignment. Don't think about it for about 2 months. Get reminded about paper by professor. Feel severe guilt for having done nothing for this paper. Procrastinate like crazy about going to the library, though this is only a five-minute walk but means that I have to get to campus earlier and have less chill time before class starts. Get grumpy when I can't find the books I want. Procrastinate some more until I have to go to IUK's library with the lousy parking. Check out a goober amount of books that I have to remember when the due date is. Get books and spend about 3-4 Saturdays/Sundays doubly-whammy combos of hours upon hours of reading reading reading highlighting crying and feeling sorry for myself and my "miserable" life reading reading highlighting. Grumpy Amy. Feel guilty for stopping working at 6 or so on a Saturday night. Feel guilty for doing homework instead of working on paper. Feel guilty for doing anything but homework or paper. Arrrrr-gh. Wonder why I am doing this. Find earphones, take advantage of Ben being gone on a random Saturday and type type type type, kick Toby off of my lap again, type type, throw the mouse for the 934th time to get Toby to leave me alone, type type type...revise revise revise revise revise (do laundry) revise revise revise revise. Print. Smile. :-)

***I'm the only masters student in the class that I'm currently taking. It's really kind of wierd to be surrounded just by doctoral students. Does the professor take this into consideration? Does it matter at all?

***How do people do this for 7-8 years after undergrad? Is it worth it not to work and give up all of the financial security that comes with a full-time job in lieu of a couple of years of school?

***Smile cause I know that I'm doing pretty okay overall. NO one in my classes work like I do, not to say that they're not all crazy busy taking 3-4 classes and assistantships.

***We'll see what happens next semester when I'm not working full-time, exactly. Can I juggle baby and American Naturalism and Realism?

***People who survive grad school are a)really crazy addicted to their subject and b)entitled to jobs just because of what they go through. I'm serious about A but recognize my wishful thinking with B.