I frigging hate doing math homework.
But I love doing math.
How stupid is that?
In high school I was kicked out of my math class because every time I was told to "show my work" I refused.
At first the teacher thought I was cheating.
Then, when I walked her through my method in the sections we were working on she told me "That's not the part of the book we're learning."
"Well I haven't read that part of the book, that's just how the numbers work out."
"Do it the way I'm teaching the class."
"No. It's slow, it's stupid, and it's a waste of time."
"Get out of my class."
"Fine."
Next week.
"Hey, you need to take that pentagram off and turn your pagan shirt inside out. It's offensive."
"No he doesn't. If you're going to use that logic then you need to have her take her crucifix off and turn that Jesus shirt inside out."
"It's not the same thing."
"It kind of is."
"How does this even effect you."
"Because we live in america and we have freedom of religion. So either they both do or neither of them do."
"Get out of my class."
"Fine."
"Don't come back."
"It's a waste of time anyway."
So now, as an adult I'm trying to "relearn" the math I was kicked out of.
Truth is, I knew it, forgot it because I wasn't using it, and am having a hard time reconciling the short hand that the teacher throws at us during class and then having to reteach myself with the book after class because the short hand doesn't stick.
Friggin broke down into tears working on this factoring nonsense because when I went to do it I just started writing down answers and was skipping the work part, then had to erase it all and start over. Then couldn't remember which version of the factoring I was supposed to be doing for that section of the homework and it's all so damned stupid.
I can't help it.
I look at numbers, they go into my head like a blender and then the blender spits out a damned answer. Sometimes in the numbers come out in the wrong order, more now than they used to because life happened. But then I look at the numbers my brain spit out on paper and they go through the blender again.
Then my brain goes "nope." or "yep" And I keep working and reworking them until the blender says "yep" when it looks at them.
Though, usually the answer is right the first time and the second guessing to make sure I "followed the proper method" is what fucks it up.
"Use the trial and error method and show your work."
Fuck...really?
It is honestly why I'm taking remedial math, again.
I took it a few years ago and didn't write a single thing down, did it all in my brain space just to prove I could.
This time, I'm trying to learn to show "my work" or their version of the work, or however you look at it.
It's hard to show how a blender works on a sheet of paper.
Most of my notes are half numbers or place holders so that if I get stuck I have a solid place to start from rather than all the way at the beginning.
But then, this factoring nonsense.
I understand I need to learn the foundations of how it's traditionally done to understand math I'll need to do later.
But hot ham, seriously?
Between it being warm in the class room almost to the point of sweating this week, running on little sleep, I end up nodding off while waiting for the class to catch up to where I'm at in the practice work so that I can ask a question and verify that I'm doing it correctly.
While I"m crunching numbers I"m wide awake.
The moment I stop My brain starts wanting silly things like "rest" and "sleep"
Honestly though, I should have started working on the math the moment I woke up, or last night before passing out. But frankly, I was dealing with a lot of emotions, pain in the knees from moving the remainder of my belongings to the place I'm staying and feeling emotionally overwhelmed by how little space I have to work with and how much stuff I won't be able to fit into it.
That, even after I do sell of the collections and things that I'm willing to part with out of necessity of streamlining my belongings to the absolute essentials. Hell, even my costuming stuff I've been wearing all through Halloween so that I can wear it all one more time before it ends up, more than likely, in the trash.
I can't sell it and it's all tailored. So what the hell am I supposed to do with it?
So, box by box I'll have to go through it and sell, trash, or give things away.
While finding shelving to fit into the space that I have so that I can keep at least a handful of the books I spent my life curating.
I had bought shelves for all of these collections...but...well...yeah.
I'll do it, I need to do it.
It's either that or I just say fuck it and wander off into the woods and leave it to whoever wants it.
Which...honestly...as tired and emotionally wrung out as I am after the past week...doesn't seem so bad.
I picked destiny back up, which has helped a little. Started streaming again, if for no other reason than to distract myself from curling up in a ball in the corner and crying myself to sleep as I've been getting a handle on this wackadoo schedule I've put myself on and my brain begins having time to reflect on life the universe and everything.
Running around on far flung planets "saving the universe" is a nice distraction from the train wreck that I call a life. But, much like real life, I go on these adventures solo. Seeing fellow travelers and working with people for the mission, or for the match, then wandering off down my own path again.
Random observers watching my antics as I throw my thoughts and babbelings into the ether.
But hey, such is the life of a kid genius turned broken adult that spent their intervening years playing at being a super hero and stepping on the dicks of people that usually do the stepping.
Trying,and usually failing, not to hurt the people that I'm trying to help in the process
Either way, most people look at me as a crazy ass hole that they're only stuck talking to because they're being paid to for one reason or another.
And me, either with headphones in or running my mouth to avoid the ringing in my ears. Both making me look like even more dickish, self entitled, and "he thinks he's better than us."
Then... over hearing the bullshit people say when they think I can't hear them.
Feelings? Who has those?
Yay.
Anyways, food, nap, then another stab at math, and maybe a little exploration of a haunted moon, then work.
