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A Day of Stress

April 3, 2013

Well I know I said I’d write another one when Tuesday came around, but this day was too stressful to wait until then. I feel safer writing here than talking to my mom, dad, and anyone for that matter…

So it began after History class today. I had a Forensic Advisement session with my organic chemistry II lecture professor. It’s basically a session where you talk about what you’re suppose to do for the last years of your major. I thought I already knew what I was going to do, so this was a mind opener for me.

Turns out, taking Instrumental Analysis and Physical Chemistry in the same semester isn’t recommended. According to my professor, I’ll be in the lab for Instrumental for a long, long time. Because of this, I wouldn’t have anytime to tackle PCHEM, let alone Biochemistry along with Instrumental 2 in the spring…

And that’s where it began. My four year plan had gone straight out the window. I knew most people finished it in five years, but I remained optimistic, for money sake and for my sake. Like, an extra two semesters would cost my family, well my dad really but that’s for a different paragraph, and myself more money. And my parents expect me to finish in four years, so when I tell them five… Well, my mom will probably be fine with it, but my dad is gonna flip a shit, even though he can clearly help me pay for it.

Alright, I might as well go into the money thing here. Note: my parents are divorced, finally. From what I understand, my dad won’t pay child support. Why? Because, and again, just from speculation and bits and pieces of what I’m hearing, he’s still on the mortgage and he doesn’t feel like he has to… Like, really? What the fuck, dad? And my mom is barely getting by with my sister, whose in 10th grade, as it is. And apparently his lawyer wants her to sign some agreement where if she doesn’t pay off her “share” of the mortgage, she has to sell the house. And she definitely cannot afford New York prices, especially Long Island ones. So she would have to move way south, like South Carolina near my aunt and grandmother. And my mom definitely doesn’t want to do that. How do I know that? She told me was she broke down while we were attempting to change the locks the night before we left for South Carolina…

And to top it all off, my dad still expects mom to pay her share of my allowance… And he’s always telling me, “remind your mother about the allowance” or, “make sure you get your allowance.” And it sucks because I have to keep pretending that I’m forgetting to do it. And i know that it’ll come to a point where I’ll have to flip out on my dad and tell him everything. But if I do that, he’ll get angry and my mother and start harassing her via text and email again. And when he does that and my mom breaks down more, I’ll have to kick his ass.

And I fucking mean it to. I’m literally going to kick the living shit out of him one day. He’s my dad and all, and I love him at times, but he’s a little bitch in the end. There’s going to be a point where that’s what I have to resort to. Hell, I had to yell at him b/c he was threatening not to take my sister on a skiing trip because she was treating him “unfairly.” First of all, she’s your daughter, she’s gonna be a bitch sometimes. And second of all, look what you’re putting her through, us through. Now’s not the time to “stand up against her.” One day… one day.

Alright, back to my day. After that part of the advisement session, she started talking about FOS 401 and 402, Laboratory Internship and Research Experience, respectively. I want to do 401, but she began to talk about 402, as if she assumed I wanted to take it. I was like (paraphrasing, of couse), “Well what if I want to do 401 instead?” She gave me a guys name, and I said, “Alright, i’ll email him.” She said, “Good luck.”

Great… another person and John Jay who doesn’t answer their email… Just what I need right now, right? And apparently it takes a year or so to get this thing set up… Really? Why weren’t we told this at some kind of orientation or anything…

Oh, and another thing going back to the classes. I don’t live in the city full time. I just have a dorm from August to May. Which is why I can’t take summer classes unless they’re online, which puts a huge kink in a lot of things apparently. So I’m working around that.

Anyways, I just sent an email to the guy in-between a few paragraphs ago. Worse comes to worse, I’ll find his office and talk to him in person.

Ok, so I’ve talked about the classes, internship, money situation, kicking the shit out of my dad. So I guess what’s left is my test grade.

Since it so happens that my advisement sessions was with my orgo II lecture professor, I was able to get my grade from her. Now I thought I did well on this test. But I also knew this was a trap test. It may seem easy, but it’s really not. I was slightly right. I got a 77. Not horrible, but not what I expected. My test average is still around an 80, which is fine. But still, I expect a lot more out of myself. I didn’t think thoroughly through some multiple choice questions, even though I only got 3 or 4 wrong, and it screwed me over. I don’t know, I just blank out on some tests sometimes. But as long as I can keep my lab average up, I can still land in the B range again.

But since I was down to begin with, this grade got me thinking what the hell I was doing with my life. Like, I’m good and confident in science. Give me some lab work, and I’ll get it done with ease. But I’m great and love history, I’m amazing at music, I’m a good writer, so why did I choose science to major it? I’m over it now, but it was just a low day. And those are thrown at you, some more than others unfortunately. “But what don’t kill ya, make ya more strong,” in the wrongs of James Hetfield…

Well I think I’m done for now. And this time I’m sure the next blog will be Tuesday after I ask her out.

But until then…

 

*UPDATE*

 

So I had to call my dad to talk about if he could bring me to the train station Sunday night after band practice, and he asked about the allowance. I bullshited my way out of it, and I’m pretty sure he knew it. I don’t know how much longer I can bullshit until everything falls through…

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