Thinking out aloud...

All the depressive stuff you've been reading here lately, that doesn't come out of nowhere. It's been festering in my not-quite-subconscious for some while. And now that I'm thrown back on myself, without (pretty much) the welcome distractions of friendship that usually sugarcoat my frustrations, I finally have to face some painful truths about myself. These are accentuated by the experience of a foreign, much more demanding university system, and my first confrontation with the reality of the job market.

The truths I am talking about here are 1.) I have no chance at all on the job market as a goldsmith, because I am, despite my love of the craft, quite horrible at it. That wouldn't be quite so alarming if it weren't for truth no. 2.), which is: I am also a horrible student.

Oh, I am reasonably intelligent, and over the years many people have (mis)taken me for somewhat gifted in various ways (I probably am, but not in any way that might be useful for anything, I think). I am even reasonably interested in my subjects. However, I lack the ambition, or the will, to really *use* my brains. In other words, I am lazy as hell. I am not sure whether that is because I am afraid of failure - finding out I am not as bright as I think I am - or whether it is because I really want to do something else with my life.

Whatever the reasons for my academic underachieving, taken together, the above quoted truths spell out a bigger, more disturbing truth, namely: I am going nowhere, fast.

I am 27 going on 28, I have a useless degree, I am working on another that promises to be just as useless, particularly if I keep my results almost deliberately mediocre (e.g. by failing an exam I could easily have passed, and perhaps passed with a great mark, simply due to lack of effort), I have never held down a proper job, I have no qualifications that might get me one that promises any kind of future, my parents are still paying my bills, and I have no frelling idea what I want to do with my life. Except for some rather scary dreams of a life of art that will never allow me to support myself and that I may not be creative or gifted enough for, anyway.

Of course, I've known all this for years, but somehow, it never seemed very real, until now.

The truth is, I have to get off this track, and soon, or I will end up in some dead-end. I just don't know how to turn my misdirected life into some more useful direction.

There you have it. Now you also know why I tend not only to have crushes on, but also to identify strongly with people like Joel. He's a loser of exactly the kind I can see myself becoming.

Three dreams.

Saturday to Sunday:
I was in a virtual reality game that lasted months, with a strange group of people. One girl had rose thorns growing out of her skin. Another looked like Chiana, and had us call her Chiana, as well.

Sunday to Monday:
I was a member (possibly the mother) of a large family who lived in some very flimsy house. We were caught in some kind of time loop which inevitably ended in a nuclear explosion in which we were all killed. Again, and again, and again. Scary dream.

Monday to Tuesday:
I was living in Spain (a wholly imaginary Spain, though - looked more like northern Italy, really), somewhere near dunkle_feuer. Nice.

Hmpf sits an exam

9:00 arrival

9:30 start of exam

9:35 Hmpf stares at exam questions, can't think of a single answer

9:45 Hmpf still can't think of anything

9:50 Hmpf writes down two words. Then stares at her piece of paper some more.

9:55 Hmpf has sudden panic attack; is brought glass of water

10:00 Hmpf feels terribly embarrassed due to breaking out in tears in class

10:05 Hmpf tries to breathe calmly

10:10 Hmpf scribbles down some more notes

10:30 Hmpf starts answering a question

11:15 Hmpf starts answering a second question

12:00 Hmpf decides to forget about the third question although there's still half an hour left, as her mind is completely blank. Hands in her exam book with an embarrassing total of five pages of, mostly, waffling. Then goes to see lecturer to enquire about mark for essay that makes up 50 percent of the final grade, to find out if she may still pass the module even though she probably failed the exam. Is told that yes, maybe. Depends on how badly she failed the exam. Hmpf suggests she failed very badly. Lecturer looks vaguely shocked, then suggests that this is something that 'happens to mature students' - they get out of practice.

---


I feel so stupid. Although of course it really only is a matter of practice. I have simply forgotten how to do this, prepare for an exam. Forgotten how to *study*. I still know it in theory, but for some reason I can't *do* it anymore. I might be able to relearn it, but then, in Germany I won't need it. Not this kind of studying, anyway.

A shame that this was the only one of my exams I really cared about. There's another one on Saturday next week, but that's sort of less important 'cause I probably won't be able to get it accredited in Germany, anyway. This one was the only one that really mattered.

Of course, I knew that. I knew that, and still didn't work efficiently. I knew all along what was going to happen. I've been talking about it for weeks. Although perhaps I didn't really believe it could happen to me. *I* don't fail exams...

I suppose in the light of 'try everything once', it was a valuable experience.