Drinking is good. Being hungover for class is bad.
This is the kind of math you have to learn to survive college.
Sure, there’ll be other math. Small amounts if you’re doing some artsy-craftsy degree like me. But it’s still present.
Yet, for all the times I solve problems involving the probability of drawing seven good transistors from a batch of 27 transistors where five of the transistors are bad, it’s sitting in GEOG1001 with a hangover that really gives me pause.
I believe my brain may be partially at fault. I know I sure as heck didn’t set an alarm or put in for a wake-up call. Brain decided that crap on its own.
Learning, as it turns out, is traditionally done with one’s brain. A hangover, as it turns out, is often directed at one’s brain.
Abuse your brain, and it’ll show you the cold shoulder. Ignore you. And most definitely ignore any facts or data you try to cram into it, like a 2-year-old who doesn’t want to eat any mushed carrots.
In my defense, I think I earned my hangover for a good cause – live blogging the first presidential debate with my fellow Red Shtickers. Still, I could have planned this all better.
For one thing, why did I have to wake up this morning? I don’t mean “Gosh, I wish I were dead.” I mean my first class isn’t until noon today. So what’s up with rolling out of bed at 6:30 a.m.?
That’s just stupid. And I believe my brain may be partially at fault. I know I sure as heck didn’t set an alarm or put in for a wake-up call. Brain decided that crap on its own.
I even fed brain some multivitamins and water this morning. That proves we’re buds, right?
Bah. Now I’ve got 90 minutes of the Caribbean about to come straight at me, and no place to put it. I hate getting my math wrong.