Doesn't Know Shit from Shinola
2 pressed play
When you start thinking of whom would come out the victor in a fight between a raging Superman and a carrot-nibbling Bugs Bunny, it can only mean that you're bored beyond belief. Or, you know, when you start writing a blog entry in your notebook in the middle of a class... yep, a definite sign of boredom.
Being bored can be one of the worst things that anyone can experience. It makes you feel lethargic even if you've gotten eight fabulous hours of sleep. It makes you hungry even if you've eaten a breakfast that could easily feed a famished team of football players. It makes you wonder about the strangest things, like feats that totally defy the laws of physics. It makes you... well, you get my drift.
You know what, I'm thinking that the powers-that-be should constitutionalize (I know it's not a word, but it should be!) a practice that demands professors to entertain the class when more than half of it has their minds cruising to different fictional (or non-fictional) places (like Neverland for some people, Hogwarts for others, and the PBB House for others still). I mean, how can one learn the intricacies of the humanities, third world development, and the psychotic mind of the occasional weird professor if his mind were somewhere else?
You see, in an ideal world (you know, where students are mad-happy and professors are mad-cool), things go like this:
Professor: Your assignment for the night...
Students (with too dramatic groans to accompany their very wise reasoning): But, sir, we have a party to go to!
Professor (with an accommodating smile on his face): Of course, of course. No assignments 'til you graduate!
Then we graduate and we apply for jobs, sending out resume after resume and crossing our fingers in hopes that one of them would be marked "hired"...or whatever they do with it once they get fooled by our dazzling abilities…or lack thereof. After biting our nails off (or worn a hole through the carpet with our pacing), worrying that we'd get zip in return, we get our mail, though most of them are rejection letters. Of course, we sift desperately through the junk, hoping against hope that one of them would at least be good news. And voila! There's a white envelope containing a letter, saying that we got accepted in a job we don't exactly want and had only submitted a resume to as a backup plan.
Of course, we go to work, pay taxes, settle bills, and lose sleep. Then we think, "What in blazes did I do back in college?" Only to come to a painful realization that, back then, we wished our college life to be all fun and games, and -- guess what? -- we got it! We breezed through college because all we had to do was party and get drunk.
Ooh... That's gotta suck. As the saying goes, "We don't always get what we want, and we don't always want what we get."
...
Then the bell rings, and we wake up from our dream, glad to know that everything has happened only in our subconscious. Here's when we promise ourselves that we won't slack off anymore, that we'll try to pay attention so we won't get bored because we're too shaken by our dream. With a resolute nod, we go home, come back the next day, then we get bored all over again and wonder who would win in a fight between a raging Superman and a carrot-nibbling Bugs Bunny...
Tsk. It's a vicious cycle.
~
Doesn't know shit from Shinola - possessing poor judgment or knowledge
Being bored can be one of the worst things that anyone can experience. It makes you feel lethargic even if you've gotten eight fabulous hours of sleep. It makes you hungry even if you've eaten a breakfast that could easily feed a famished team of football players. It makes you wonder about the strangest things, like feats that totally defy the laws of physics. It makes you... well, you get my drift.
You know what, I'm thinking that the powers-that-be should constitutionalize (I know it's not a word, but it should be!) a practice that demands professors to entertain the class when more than half of it has their minds cruising to different fictional (or non-fictional) places (like Neverland for some people, Hogwarts for others, and the PBB House for others still). I mean, how can one learn the intricacies of the humanities, third world development, and the psychotic mind of the occasional weird professor if his mind were somewhere else?
You see, in an ideal world (you know, where students are mad-happy and professors are mad-cool), things go like this:
Professor: Your assignment for the night...
Students (with too dramatic groans to accompany their very wise reasoning): But, sir, we have a party to go to!
Professor (with an accommodating smile on his face): Of course, of course. No assignments 'til you graduate!
Then we graduate and we apply for jobs, sending out resume after resume and crossing our fingers in hopes that one of them would be marked "hired"...or whatever they do with it once they get fooled by our dazzling abilities…or lack thereof. After biting our nails off (or worn a hole through the carpet with our pacing), worrying that we'd get zip in return, we get our mail, though most of them are rejection letters. Of course, we sift desperately through the junk, hoping against hope that one of them would at least be good news. And voila! There's a white envelope containing a letter, saying that we got accepted in a job we don't exactly want and had only submitted a resume to as a backup plan.
Of course, we go to work, pay taxes, settle bills, and lose sleep. Then we think, "What in blazes did I do back in college?" Only to come to a painful realization that, back then, we wished our college life to be all fun and games, and -- guess what? -- we got it! We breezed through college because all we had to do was party and get drunk.
Ooh... That's gotta suck. As the saying goes, "We don't always get what we want, and we don't always want what we get."
...
Then the bell rings, and we wake up from our dream, glad to know that everything has happened only in our subconscious. Here's when we promise ourselves that we won't slack off anymore, that we'll try to pay attention so we won't get bored because we're too shaken by our dream. With a resolute nod, we go home, come back the next day, then we get bored all over again and wonder who would win in a fight between a raging Superman and a carrot-nibbling Bugs Bunny...
Tsk. It's a vicious cycle.
~
Doesn't know shit from Shinola - possessing poor judgment or knowledge
Paola @ 8:41 PM
