Sunday, September 25, 2005

This is not what I signed up for.

Back when I started this piece-of-shit-mother-fucking school, I heard many horrible stories. Many of them true, as it came from their own experiences. I've heard a couple Math majors jumped off the top of Evans Hall (the Math building, which is also the ugliest building on campus). They died, of course. Then I've heard another chemical engineering major told me that she studied until she cries. Then there's this person who started off with pre-med and ended up graduating with a mass communication degree.

I am here to tell you that these stories, are indeed, true.

Because I am about to jump off a tall building myself.

Because this is not worth it.

No, not worth it.

I started with a dream, in other words, an illusions that I will get a good job that pays well, and I'll be doing what I like. 3 semesters down the road, I realize that this dream is, for the lack of better description, bullshit. I couldn't be more wrong. Because it looks like I'm busting my ass off just to get a job in Oklahoma, Utah, or Ohio.

What. the. fuck. am. I. gonna. do. in. Ohio?

I'm about to quit.

They say the 4 years in college is the best time of of their lives.

I'm here to tell you that those people who said that? They are definitely not engineering majors, trying so hard to graduate with honors.

What's an honor degree for?

I don't know.

All I know is weeks after weeks after weeks after weeks of being pounded by mountains and mountains of work, I am this close to giving up.

When you're a football player, tens of thousands of people cheer for you when you score a touchdown. When you're a chemical engineer, what do you get when you solve an extremely difficult problem?

More problems.

That's it.

What you think somebody will pat you back and tell you what a great job you've done? You think somebody will cheer for you? You think maybe you'll feel like you've accomplished something?


And you can't even tell anybody about it because no one will understand the difficulties of determining the final temperature of an isentropically expanded gas using the appropriate generalized correlations.

And the sadddest part is that you have to go through all these alone. No one to share your joy and sorrow. No one will give you a bear hug and tell you that it'll be all right.

No one.

It's gorgeous out. Sunny 72 degree, nice breeze.

I'll be going to the library in an hour.

Today is the end of week 4.

11 more weeks to go.

I seriously doubt I can make it.