Hey Ruth, the Crazy is over

It’s all done, more or less. Sure there’s exams still, but that’s a month away. And I have a couple Physics assignments, but they’re pretty tiny. Other than that, it’s all more or less done.

But then the dry erase markers didn’t erase…

I like the crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t pick it. It’s like the guy from Wolf of Wall Street said, “I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor. Guess what? I’d choose rich every time.” I don’t think I’d ever choose the crazy. But I’m glad it happens–every once in a while. It’s like a workout.

The first thing to take down was Psychology. The text is thick. For Monday’s midterm we had to know 300 pages of it, plus anything from the four 3-hour lectures we’d had since our last test. You should have seen the crowd in the exam building ten minutes before the test started. These poor kids were terrified. Most of them were staring at hand-scribbled study sheets, trying to cram one or two extra units of info before the horror.

I, of course, owned the test. And I did it with a smile. That’s part of the solution to the crazy right there–a smile. It can be fun. The test essay doesn’t have to be this horrendous thing that I’m forced to endure. It could be a project I’ve been asked to build.

I had my eye on this test for a while. I was disappointed in my grade on the last test in this class–here was my redemption (this way of thinking makes the game all the more fun, too). I bought a huge cheap linoleum tablecloth–the kind you’d use on a picnic table. It’s pinned on our wall now, filled with delicious psychology scribbles. It’s a fun way to study.

My eighteen-year-old classmates can’t do it, though. They can’t turn it into fun. They can’t appreciate the Crazy. I don’t blame them. They’ve been enduring school since they could form memories. University is just the next thing you’re supposed to do. That sort of perspective makes the awesome things hard to see.

I think it’s great that you and I can see the awesome things in everything. That might be one of the secrets to our own awesomeness.

It’d be awesome if everyone could see the awesome in everything.

Have a great Sunday, Ruth. I’ll see you soon.