It is amazing how much one little choice or how one little outcome can dramatically affect an individual. Over the past few weeks, I was becoming increasingly stressed about my future, owing to a certain class that I was trying to get enrolled in. What the content of this class is largely inconsequential. The important thing about it, rather, is that it is one of those "gateway" prerequisite courses, which opens up the possibility of several higher level (in this case, 400-level) classes. What makes this particular case so weighty is that my program requires at least 12 400-level credits--twice the normal university mandate for an undergraduate degree. Furthermore, my faculty only offers 18 400-level credits, and this class that I was trying to get into is a prerequisite for 9 of those credits.
Okay, so this gateway class is a creative writing course, and the only way a student can be enrolled in it is to submit a writing portfolio, which the faculty peruse at their leisure in order to determine whether or not you meet the appropriate calibre of literary technique, skill, poise--yadda yadda yadda--to justify spending time on teaching you how to write...better?
What it had come down to in this case was a matter of timing. Decision on student enrolment for this creative writing class was supposed to be completed some time in the latter half of July. And, as July progressed, waned & eventually died altogether, I was becoming all the more aware that I hadn't received any confirmation for being in that class. The first business day in August was yesterday, so I had assumed that--since I was not already enrolled--taking the "worst case scenario" disaster control would probably be the most prudent course of action. That being decided, I immediately began weighing my options: if I was not accepted in this creative writing class, my 400-level credits would be limited to 9, which is not enough to graduate with a major in that concentration. Therefore, I could either a.) switch into an honours program in that major, giving me access to the Honours Tutorial class, which, being a 400-level course, would fulfil my graduation requirements, or b.) drop that major. The second option was much more favourable, as it would also provide the added benefit of letting me graduate a whole year earlier than I was planning, making me that much less in debt & that much closer to actually starting "real life."
So, here I am, stuck in the middle of summer school being bombarded by exams and assignments aplenty, already highly stressed about doing well on those & this drops into my lap: what the heck am I going to be doing this fall? This year? I immediately began thinking of the shortcuts I had considered earlier in the season regarding how I could woo the university calendar into compressing my program back into one year--or less. (as the only reason I do have two years left is caused by the retarded scheduling of my required classes in this, my sacrificial major). "Today, after class," I told myself, "I'll sit down & get this done. I mean, school's starting in a month, eh? I have to get something figured out before then..." So, here I go, contemplating this alter plan to my future and seeing all the great highlights of being done a year earlier--but also the downside of losing my major. I was at a bit of an impasse, for the benefits of both held the drawbacks of the other in perfect balance. I think that just not knowing which way the coin would fall was causing the most stress: if I was denied access to this one class, then I'd be tickled pink to be done a year sooner; whereas if I was accepted, I could either continue on my previously laid plan, or still pursue this new, compressed course of action. ...it kinda reminds me of another area in my life that I need to find an outcome for pretty darned soon... Anyways, that's a side note & a digression.
And to stop making a short story long, I today checked my enrolment status at the same time as I started working on my schedule-changing. I actually had assumed--and had come to the conclusion--that I wasn't accepted. This became apparent when I completely overlooked the fact that I was indeed enrolled in the crucial class until I started figuring out what time-slots I had free to schedule alternate classes. "Wow," I said to myself, double-checking, just to be sure that some guy in a flowing robe wasn't playing Jedi mind-tricks on me, "Cool."
How do you spell relief? Inflate a balloon--but don't tie it--and write the word "STRESS" on it. Then let go. Or, you could get a dyslexic who seems to only have trouble with 'e's to write out "er life" for ya. Though, you could also scribble down an 'r', 'l', an 'f' and throw in a couple of vowels for spice. Take yer pick. Just don't pop the balloon: that'll throw stress all over the place ;)
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