Is the semester over yet?!

This English class is taking too much of my time~

I have always liked my English classes. To me they’ve always been interesting and I’ve learned one or two I know you were frustrated with this assignment. I'm pretty frustrated with your result. This was AFTER my tutor went over everything with me, but more on that in a moment…

useful things during the semester. This semester I’ve learned that my teacher likes useless information and doesn’t know how to use the online format very well. I REALLY wish I had taken this composition class on-ground instead of online . I got an E-mail from her the other day, saying:

This was after E-mails back and forth and me finally submitting my assignment. I fixed it and offered to resubmit it, but she declined, saying : Just look forward to writing a great paper… Deep breath! It will be OK.

So at least there  is some positivity there.

I’m actually pretty excited to get moving on my paper:   

Cessation of Sleep is Tantamount to Cessation of Cognitive Functioning

I read it to my husband asking for his opinion on it… he said he didn’t understand any of those words. I just whined that at least I was speaking English this time

She has us doing little assignments along the way, and it just feels a bit like a waste of time, although I know they are important to the final product. However, apparently I am unable to comprehend her instructions, because I’ve been assigned a tutor. Me! And English tutor! I thought I was following directions, and I guess not. Oh well…

Oddly enough, in Philosophy,  we were discussing stress in our daily life’s, how it effects our ability to learn, and respond to situations. This is my current issue. I am worrying SO much about getting a decent grade, and getting through my classes, I have overstressed myself. 

This semester has been more difficult than the last few I have had. Usually there are a couple classes I like … and then math.

This semester something…. Switched. Something in my little brain snapped. I found myself saying “Oh this math problem is fun…” WTF! FUN! ME! MATH! Oh manoh manoh man… good thing I didn’t remember how to do it 20 minutes later. (Seriously though that is my issue with math) I hate asking my friends for help with math because I can be so frustrating to work with. One friend offered to help and then told me I needed to get over my inability to see numbers as unidentifiable symbols…Okay so no more help from you.

I had to finish my last three math tests my first week of this semester, and  I surprised my math teacher by doing it. She didn’t think I would succeed (I love that vote of confidence) I’ve been using the rest of the semester to get  to where I need to be instead of being behind on what I was supposed to be done with. So far, so good. I am not behind, and I am fighting to keep ahead, or at least on track.

Now on to Yoga! This class isn’t so bad, but the hour I which I am supposed to attend is miserable. As a bona fide “night person”  7:00 am is NOT  my friend.

 The morning and I have decided that it would be best if we didn’t meet again after this semester is over.

Anyway on to the fun stuff. Yoga is the practice of holding in a fart for an hour while you wrap your leg around your neck! And I have come to the conclusion that yoga is NOT for short fat girls with big boobs… I am this. 

I have lost weight, but all the girls in my class are these tall beautiful thin women with much smaller chests than mine.  I may be more limber than most of the other girls in my class, but it doesn’t help me any when my boobs are suffocating me

The teacher is very nice, and most of the classes go off without incident… until the day straps were introduced.  She calmly told us in her sweet voices, to get out straps out and put our straps on. I tried not to giggle. She looked around the class and said,
 “Now that you have your straps on…” I honestly don’t remember the rest of that sentence. The girl next to me giggled I lost it, then the girl behind me let one rip when she put her legs up after getting her strap on.