Confessions of an Undisguised Drama Queen

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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Q is for...

Q is for quack quack.

Q is for quandary.

I'm feeling somewhat like a lost duckling in a large pond.

Decision-making.

Force 180 students to do a fixed number and type of subjects for 3 years consecutively, then throw them into the deep end, making them choose 5 prescribed electives out of 8 shitty ones, and you get 180 very confused and squirrelly students who simply cannot make up their mind which modules are best (since all are equally bad anyhow).

These 180 students end up being horrifying kan chiong spiders who irritate the shit out of lecturers who then complain that we have too many unreasonable demands. Then the 180 students fuss back that the lecturers are vomiting an incredibly vast amount of research papers on us to read and digest, and the lecturers would reply that it's nothing compared to the regurgitation from us they've had to bear with the past 3 years of exams.

Sigh.

Why is it we have school again?

That's not the source of my quandary though. It's something else that is bugging me. So many factors to consider... I really need God's wisdom here.

We complain when we lack choices, we complain when we have choices to make.

Maybe we complain too much.

[Time of Confession] 9:01 PM
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