B*tches Leeches

It makes all the difference, when you try to appease everyone because you ought to do things the ‘proper way’, and it doesn’t turn out the way you envision it to be.

We tend to be a little bit too diplomatic most of the time, but lose the fact that we have to set limits, expectations, and (ahem) deadlines when we have a so – called ‘collaborative effort’ for a certain project.

A ‘team effort’ doesn’t have to come on a major scale. It comes from a smaller unit that works hand in hand, true to whatever committed tasks they have put themselves into, towards something bigger which cannot be done simply by a person who is alone.

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Truth Thursdays: Versus

*Note from the author: After rereading the mechanics for ‘Truth Thursday’, I finally understood how these prompts work, and that I could post my work, and not have to schedule my posts for Thursday (since technically Truth ‘Thursday’ should be done on a Thursday) and wait for a few more days if I started it, like on a Sunday. It’s technically my first Truth Thursday post, so please do bear with my work! *smiles*

For the longest time now, I have been waging a battle who bears no winner – two champions who continue to outdo one another every single time – a game wherein the fates of all who’s in it have been tied to one another; a challenge that has driven me to my wits end; a tug of war where no one want to give up.

Back then, I was very sure of what I do and I knew what I wanted to be. I was confident with how I talk and walk when I am with people. They saw the leadership that I kept close to myself, and they seldom saw that I resort to tears even in the direst situations. They feel how I try to be diplomatic and cheerful when others are down. I would extend my help to those who are in need – not paying attention to what lies in return, but is grateful when receiving from other people.

However, there is more to all of these.

Because every time I try to get up, I stumble and fall on my knees, and I have kept it to myself all this time.
I never knew that having an ‘internal’ argument with my inner self would be this difficult, especially when I have long hoped towards moving on from all the hatred, and then something pulls me back, and pours salt on my wounds.
If only I could compromise with how I actually want things to happen and learn how to forgive each and every person who has crossed me in the past, maybe I could find a way and leave all the ill feelings and thoughts behind me, and finally start over again with a smile on my face, and look forward to what the future holds for me.

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Written for Truth Thursdays. This blog exists to connect people through writing. To initiate something honest, thoughtful and meaningful. Wanna know more about this awesome thing I just participated in, read it here :)

Thank Glob its Stressed-day! (Part 1)

What could be more depressing than an afternoon, staring at your laboratory notebook, and reminding yourself that you’ve been so sloppy the past few days and you suddenly get this sort-of wake up call from your professor. .

(Thinks deeply)

That would somehow be so annoying, really. Let me start of the story.

4th of July, 2012. Wednesday.

Another typical wash-day school morning for me, as I rushed out of the house on my black shirt, grey jacket, worn-out jeans , my favorite rubber shoes, and with my sling bag on my right shoulder. It was favorite part of the day, in my school week. Not just because we’re allowed to wear our casual clothes to school, but because I only had 2 subjects – Physics and Chemometrics, from 8:00 to 10:00 AM.

Unlike the usual ‘itinerary’ that I would do on a Wednesday, I wasn’t in the mood to go mall-hopping after class, especially with the bad weather roaming above us. Its  it’s been raining hard for two days already, and I was catching a cold because of it. This time, I planned to clean my laboratory glassware , write on my lab notebook for Friday’s experiment, and go home. ( I decided that I would only go out during Fridays to Sundays, so both of us can have time for ourselves)

So, my Wednesday started off with a lesson on Free Fall Motion, during Physics class. (I was not prepared with the discussion! *whew* Good thing I was able to read in passing some of the concepts while waiting for the professor, and that I wasn’t called to recite.) He wrote a few examples on how to use the formulas for free fall. After the short discussion, he decided to dismiss us, so I rushed downstairs for my next class.

I’m not saying  that I am was that great with Statistics back in MandSci, but I can say very well that I do well than most of my classmates when it comes to computations (with a calculator, that is!).  It’s true! I totally loved Statistics. I loved how Mrs. Mangaliman taught us Statistics for 10 months back in my Junior Year. But somehow,  I began to have doubts in me after that grave mistake I committed during the last exam, and for the benefit of my readers, despite it being so shameful for me to tell, I’d rather spill the beans now:

It was our second quiz, and it was all about Frequency Distributions, and Ways of Presenting Data. We were give the raw scores, and we had to arrange them in an array, fix the distribution table (if, you get what I mean.) then graph the Ogives and the Frequency Polygon on a separate sheet of graphing paper.

Ever careful, always careless Yours Truly, made a slight mistake, that cost me my grade for the particular exam.  I wrote the wrong formula, for me to be able to start constructing the frequency table, and it affected my whole exam. Rather than writing 1 + 3.33 log (n), I wrote 1+ 1.33 log (n)

Oh yes, and my score? Much more forbidden to tell. Much more sacred than an Egyptian God’s secret name.

Thought that was all of it?  Wait until you’ve read the rest.