Wednesday, August 08, 2007  11:34 PM
The petulant 'I hate School' post
The last three days have been an insightful reminder of what the rest of the semester is going to look like. I have gone through practically every emotion in the last seventy-two hours, and it has not been a very fun rollercoaster ride.
Anticipationexcitementbitchinessenvydepressionjealousyconfusionhappinessuncertaintystressworryfatigue boredomrestlessnesstirednessrepression
Except it doesn't end with exhilarated screams and a candid shot of yourself at the photo store where your mouth is opened in the most unglamourous fashion and your hair looking like Medusa.
I have also contentedly let myself forget what studying in Singapore feels like. The dread, the piling up workload, the doom that lies ahead with each detailed explanation of every new assignment and the helplessness of it all. My classes in Hong Kong suddenly feel like a breezy walk in the park, and I wonder now why I even complained about Godfrey's lengthy Cantonese lessons where I barely learnt anything new, or Isaac Leung's biased digital art class. At least Godfrey treated us to breakfast during his "extended" break and I was on MSN most of the time during Isaac's lecture. And with Jings to bitch about Iona Milligan with, and play battleship with throughout Mike's communication management class, school was actually fun.
Not to mention trips down to Festival Walk during breaks where I would just float into French Connection or MNG for that boost of energy.
I wonder why I let myself think that even now. No more of that, back to photojournalism class where I feel disastrously incompetent, and my brain working overtime to answer Duffy's countless 'why' questions during Public Affairs Reporting.
This is why I feel like screaming at every exchange student who chooses NTU Communication Studies as their school of exchange. I study there because I have no choice. They have choices. Exchange is supposed to be about all play and no work, which was why mine was so rewarding.
Third year in journalism doesn't sound as appealing as I had made it out to be when I was seventeen and all I wanted was to get into journalism school. Without a doubt, I will learn alot from my writing classes, but the headache of matching electives and timetabling is getting to me and making me snappier than usual. Nothing I want fits. And this semester, I lose half my favourite people to other specialisations which means less friends in class, or a concerted effort in being overly friendly to strangers.
The rollercoaster of emotions is speeding through me again, ending with extreme fatigue, worry with regard to next semester's internship and dull depression. Lack of sleep really makes me a totally different person, the trigger-happiness flies out of the window immediately.
I've spent six hours in the ACRC in the last three days, in the first week of school. I don't need a crystal ball to tell me what kind of life I'm going to be leading in the next four months.
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