College has changed me into an irrevocably cynical and bitter person.
Really, I'm so tired of it.
I came to this school assured repeatedly that they would help me write better. Full knowing that I'd have to take literature courses, I still convinced myself that the end result would be worth it. Others, (some family and mostly coworkers of time past) tried convincing me that I should stick with my job. I'm rapidly losing strength. They are absolutely NOT, so far, teaching me how to write better, even though I'm under the writing concentration (we don't have a writing minor as other schools have). To the school and the department of English's defense, none of my coursework is unexpected, it's just that I was hoping for more focus on writing itself, not on various analyses of literary works (I must point out I'm an avid reader when time permits, but I read for fun, not to induce aneurysms).
Each class other than English is tough as nails, especially Spanish, which I'm in my 2nd year in, and keeping up with my other classes often drains me of critical time and mental resources that I'd rather spend on English. Perhaps I should let the others slide (Anthropology, History, and Spanish) and just focus primarily on English, but I do try to do as best I can in each.
After this semester, I still have 2 full-fledged literature classes left (300-level ones), a few electives, and hopefully, other 300 and 400-level writing classes. Of course, there's always the Senior Seminar, which is bound to be loads of tongue-slapping fun!
Posted by stephend at October 12, 2005 11:20 PM