Today was a very busy day. It started promptly at 8:00 – wait – 8:15 – no, that’s not quite right either. Um… my day started promptly at 9:00am. For those of you who know me (and by “know” I mean – those of you who call me til all hours of the early early morning) you can pick yourselves off of the floor now. I normally do go to bed around 9:00AM – but today was a very special day. I decided to take the plunge and take my tests for placement at school. *sigh*

Placement tests go a little something like this: You walk in with your student id and student id number – a kind gentleman resembling the dad from Fresh Prince Of Bel Air leads you to your jail cell – I mean – cubicle – where he logs you in and tells you you have all the time you need because the tests are not timed. You sit and stare at a computer screen that spits out these complex sentences and asks you if they are correct or if there is perhaps a better sentence that sums up what the “author” intends – or IMPLIES. After a few of these heart wrenching exercises – the computer digs deep and pulls out from his tight, constipated ass a paragraph and asks you to “sum it up nicely” – according to what you THINK the author is trying to imply/state. 60 – count then six – zero – of these puppies and you feel like you really have no command of the english language at all. After you’ve cried silent tears all over the gateway computer’s keyboard a new screen appears informing you that now you’ll need to take the MATH placement tests. Fractions, percentages, and algebra equations OH F’IN MY! I thought I would d-i-e. At first I really tried hard. Seriously tried hard. I worked out the little problems on the pieces of scratch paper provided for me. I considered writing a poem or two to pass the time – since the tests weren’t timed – but realized that I had to answer the questions from hell in order to be released from my prison cell the college called cubicles. I thought about maybe post poning my doom. I could take several classes with out ever touching math, I reasoned, but something inside of me called insanity drove me on. Question after Question after equation after what percentage of rain that drops from onto my grandmother’s porch actually lands on her petunia plants. Finally the test was over. 3 hours later. And I think 2 of those hours were me praying to God to strike me dead. I’m NOT being dramatic. I stood up from my chair and walked slowly to the man who would tell me my fate. I had heard him offering up compliments to many of the girls who had tested before me. Telling them stuff like how wonderful they were in Math and how surprised he was because girls usually don’t do so well in Math. I knew as I inched my way slowly to his desk that he would be relieved by my test scores, for my test scores affirmed his stereotypes of women sucking royally in math. Taking out a pen he circled the very first class on the top of the English pyramid. “Very good, young lady” He remarked. “You tested very high in English – you can go on and take Composition whenever you are ready.” Thank God, I thought to myself, being that my MAJOR was English and all. Turning the sheet over he circled the bottom class and looked up at me with a twinkle in his eye. “Not so good at math, I see.” No shit, sherlock. “You need to take these classes before you can take a class that will be for credit towards your major.” I nodded and reached for the paper. “I’m just glad it is over.” I mumbled, and my complaint was rewarded by a heavy laugh.

Summary? I spent 3 hours at a computer in order for the college to tell me what I already knew: I’m quite comfortable in English, and quite RETARDED in Math.

After all of that, I realized that I needed to run some errands, go to the bank so that my checks wouldn’t bounce since my balance is awful. When I filled out the slip for my deposit the teller informed me that I had actually deposited more than I had written down.

Summary? I’m quite comfortable in English, and quite RETARDED in Math.

Heading home, I quickly shoveled in some lunch – sat down and watched a bit of a movie – and then realized that if I didn’t move quick I would be late for my other job. Apparently the clock said 2:45pm – and I was moving like it said 1:45pm (work started at 3:00PM).

Summary? I’m quite comfortable… yeah – you guessed it.

So here I am – 12:10AM – Thursday, technically – with an exercise to do on Checks & Balances for my Government class. I know that technically checks and balances have nothing to do with math – and yet, I’ve managed to postpone it much like I did my placement tests.

I’m logged in. And I’ve never really begged before – but I’m about to start now.

Please – for the love of God and all that is good and holy in this world, call me and save me from my homework. I won’t ask you to help me with my homework. I won’t even ask you what percentage of time you’re willing to spend with me. I won’t measure, summarize, analyze or further access you in any way. I will jump into your lap like a happy little puppy – pleased for the break you’ve offered me.

Please.

With cherries on the top.