Today did not start well. It didn’t start bad either. But I was in a mood left over perhaps from the anger/annoyance of yesterday’s math class. I woke on the wrong side of the bed, and would surely have grumbled nothing pleasant had I come across anyone on my trudge for the coffee pot. I aimed to get up at 5:30am again, though due to a restless night of tossing and turning, waking in a worried stated every other hour, I was only able to drag myself out of bed twenty minutes before I had to catch the bus.
I was bleary-eyed, and uncertain as to why I was even catching that bus at all, instead of the following one. Then I remembered that due to the outrage of my final class yesterday, I hadn’t been able to concentrate on my French homework, and there was no way in Hell I was going to get it done in the morning while at home.
As I boarded the bus, knowing full well I had friends to chit-chat too, I kept my head down and acted my grumpy, tired part, leaning my head against the chilled window and ignoring the vibrations of the bus that rattled my skull against the glass. I finally let go a sigh and reminded myself that it would only be a crappy day if I let it. I mentally threw myself into my Wrong-Side-Of-The-Bed-Mantra: “Today will be a good day. Today will be a good day. Today will be a good day. Today…” Though as I thought the words – and even mouthed the words, I hardly believed them. I felt like Garfield on a Monday getting a bath at the vet’s office.
I went to the cafe and got myself a coffee before plopping down and pumping out the assignment – nothing too spectacular; just picking a French-speaking country and answering a bunch of questions about it. My friend texted me, wondering if I was on campus, and I begrudgingly answered, unwilling to move from my acquired table as the masses of students flooded the hall. He then alerted me to the free coffee and doughnuts on the other side of campus. For this, I left my table.
“Wow,” he said as we walked toward one another. “You don’t look nearly as happy as you did yesterday.”
I think the words “Bite Me” were what I wanted to say, but I think I just grunted instead. Thankfully, he was enough bubbly for the both of us, and by the time we got to the other side of campus, I was feeling happier and more alert. I even got some spiffy new sunglasses to sport my Whatcom Pride – they were freebies. Can’t say no to free…well, most of the time.
Our interaction with those handing out the freebies was extremely pleasant, and we now know my friend is a campus celebrity among the Whatcom Staff – Bow-Tie Guy, I believe is what they called him, or as I prefer, BTG (as he shell henceforth be known as when I reference him down the line in this blog), which put both of us in soaring spirits – mostly my completely amusement.
By the time French was starting, I was in a wonderful mood, and ready to take on the day. By the time I was out of French, I felt optimistic, and even happy about whatever outcome came of my Math class. Of course yesterday I had emailed the Online Course instructor about transferring into her class, which I knew was full, but hoped she would make an acception. I hadn’t heard from her at this point, but I decided that no matter what, my Math 99 experience would be a new one, and something that I would be able to share on here with other students, regardless of which path I took. I almost felt it was my duty to retract my request of transferring simply so that I could relay the Flipped Class experience, and also give feed back to the college. Almost.
I bumped into a friend from my Communications class last quarter, and we went and snagged another coffee and had a brief catch-up before we both had to go to our classes. For all that I entered into school determined not to make friends, I’ve been making some really awesome ones.
Today was the first day of my Introduction to British Literature class. While I was excited when I signed up for it, it was the one class I had been dreading as the quarter neared. Not so much dreading, but it was the one I was least stoked about. The readings were Hamlet and Frankenstein, neither of which I was particularly eager to read, and I hadn’t bothered about getting the text book as it seemed like it might be something worth checking out for assignments from the library.
The class started with our instructor of course introducing herself, and listing her background – which was sounding pretty similar to my plans for school – studying abroad and getting a high degree in English. She went over the outline of the course, explaining that the literature we were going to be going over ranged from the 700’s to the 1800’s, and showed us a clip of someone reciting Beowulf in Old English.
It. Was. Amazing.
I had no idea how different English sounded back then, how it could barely be understood. The only word I heard that I knew was “God”. She talked about all the linguistic influence of that time. We flashed forward and heard an excerpt of The Canterbury Tales, which sounded a bit more like what we now know, though you could hear where the French came into it. She went on to tell us about how we would be exploring the evolution of the English language and how the readings reflected just what was going on in England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland during that time.
My lust of linguistics perked up and I wanted to jump up and hug her. It wasn’t just simply reading literature and hmming over it. It was learning the history of the region along with it, and seeing the art that language was. She even said that we would be having a look at the doodles and little jokes that the monks made when they were copying and making books, and going over riddles. I am just delighted. Friday is my next class and it just can’t come fast enough!
While in class, I recieved an email back from the Online Math teacher. She said she’d had a few people drop out and was happy to help me transfer into her class. I went to her office and got the form I needed and her signature, and Bob’s your Uncle – I am out of that Flipped class and into an online class.
Today was fantastic. And you know what the moral of the story is? Positive Affirmation Works. When you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, recite some positive affirmation, write it on a piece of paper over and over – and it jolly well works. My awesome day is living proof.