When I was younger–not much younger, just a little bit, like a year or so ago, I would collect lots and lots of sentimentally meaningful yet hardly important stuff made of undigestable plant material, usually in the form of certificates, clippings, little thingies from teachers.
But then I gott lazee n stoppd bcuz i goot layzee n ran out of good sheet cover things and had to use the cheaper shiny kind, which I didn’t like as much. So now, I turn my archivisty instinct to my math notes. They’re lovely and turquoise, with headers illuminated like a monk copied it under the Benedictine code.
Ok, maybe not that lovely, but they do encase some nice memories. Looking back at my 9th grade notes, I realized that I’ve had math 2nd or 3rd period for a loonnnggg time–since 7th grade, actually. The prospect of having Calculus 7th period next year is ..a change.
Ah, math. Science. Math and Science. The Hard Sciences. If it weren’t for the awareness that I’m only good at them because of soci-cultural immersion/support and a knack for grasping patterns, not because of any instinct for the properties of numbers or matter/energy/life forms, I’d almost want to be a mathematician/scientist.
For, even if I did have that instinct, I’m not sure I’d want to start writing my 8’s like snowmen. [My brain has established a pattern that math/science people write 8’s like snowmen, which is a grand generalization based on 2 instances that’s been disproved by many others who don’t write 8’s like snowmen, but whatever.] There’s also the requisite above average caffeine-consumption during college for math/science people, and my bladder doesn’t do well with caffeine.