When it comes to math I am remedial at best. I have spent the last four years trying to get to a point where I could go to school. pass it, and be done with it. Sadly, that is no longer the case. This summer I have spent the last seven weeks in a class and just barely getting by. I actually don’t know if I’m going to pass it or not with our final being next week, but I’m praying I will. I need to.
In my attempts at passing math I’ve enrolled in my school’s Aleks program, which if you’ve ever had to do submit yourself to that kind of agony you know that it’s not pleasant. Unless you’re one of those idiot savants that can be stoned, drunk and asleep and can still do math and pass the class. I realize that you can’t do anything asleep, but you get my point.
I also tend to over think myself into a tizzy (as if you all hadn’t noticed if you’ve ever read my Twitter) and I’m also really great at not giving myself credit where it’s due. Because come on seriously, I’ve spent a butt load of money on a few classes that got me just past nowhere. I know that everyone is good at things in their own capacity but math never fails to fail me. Not all math, just basically anything past basic algebra.
In three and a half weeks (yes I’m counting) I move back into my dorm at school and even though I don’t technically have a math class this year unless you count Macroeconomics as one, I’m going to go to my school’s disability center to see if they can test me for dyscalculia, which is dyslexia but with numbers and math related things. Then I’m going to do everything I possibly can to pass any future math classes I have because when I had my stroke almost twelve years ago really fucked some of my shit up. No, having a stroke is not exactly an excuse. If anything it should be my fuel that adds to my hatefire to the subject, but alas it does not because I accidentally let it become a crutch and I fall right back into square one as if nothing ever happened.