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The nth degree
Nov. 8th, 2002 06:03 pmI've been purposely staying offline today. I can't explain why. I don't know myself. Suffice it to say I am still here and I am still me.
It has been an unusual day. The weather was enough to drive everyone crazy - cold, grey, overcast and dripping wet. I felt lonely today; maybe it was the weather that started me thinking about it, but the people I know are growing up, changing, drifting apart. People were talking to each other about their A-level choices, and whether or not they're staying at Merchants' or moving somewhere else.
I asked Mrs Custard a question today, as I do nearly every day. I think it was about why the energy that holds an atomic nucleus together is so much stronger than the simple chemical energy in a chemical bond, for example - where's the immense energy coming from?
She looked at me for a while, and then said, "That's a good question, and I don't know the answer."
She is still surprised at how I told her I don't want to do sciences at A-level. "Who would you ask questions?" she asked.
I didn't say anything.
"You ask the kind of questions a brilliant scientist would ask. You always want to know about everything to the n-th degree."
She made me think about it. To be honest, I can't stop doing science altogether next year. I just can't. And she's right - I do have an unfortunate tendency to want to know the ins and outs of everything before I'll let it go.
I did think about doing Chemistry for A-level, but I don't know - I might do Physics. If Mrs Custard is still teaching me, I'd prefer it to Mrs Williams and her lemon yellow accoutrements.
I was talking about things that are changing. It seems extremely odd, but after the end of this year all the people I've known for so long will probably be dispersing. And a little more worrying is the fact I feel nothing about it. I'm so glad Becca isn't going - I couldn't face it without her - and I'm sorry Bev is going. But everyone else - that hasn't sunk in. I don't know if Enid's going or not.
And I don't know what to do with myself. I never thought I'd leave the three sciences and Maths behind me in favour of English and History and Politics... I rationalised it by thinking I was never that good at maths or science.
But now I'm having doubts.
I want to be a journalist. I think I do, anyway. This is, after all, the closest I've got to making a decision and sticking with it for a long time.
I guess it all boils down to how I see myself, and I don't know how I see myself.
I think I'll return to the mundane now. It might be easier that way.
The rain continued like a displaced day of the Great Flood... of course, the bus was late and I got drenched. Thankfully, Pedar had an attack of conscience in his office and decided he couldn't let me walk home in it, and he came to pick me up - only for the car to break down. Twice. The first time wasn't so bad, but the second time, we had to push it. Rather, he had to push it and I had to steer, which Pedar found inexplicably hilarious. Some lad on the other side of the street actually spent fifteen minutes helping us, which I thought extremely nice, as it was tipping down still. Thankfully, the car started a little further along, and we got home without incident.
I have to say I'm glad it's Friday. And I'm also glad to be home, and dry, and educated, and all the rest of it.
In case anyone is wondering, I have decided to try and leave spaces between paragraphs. Feedback on the innovation is appreciated.
It has been an unusual day. The weather was enough to drive everyone crazy - cold, grey, overcast and dripping wet. I felt lonely today; maybe it was the weather that started me thinking about it, but the people I know are growing up, changing, drifting apart. People were talking to each other about their A-level choices, and whether or not they're staying at Merchants' or moving somewhere else.
I asked Mrs Custard a question today, as I do nearly every day. I think it was about why the energy that holds an atomic nucleus together is so much stronger than the simple chemical energy in a chemical bond, for example - where's the immense energy coming from?
She looked at me for a while, and then said, "That's a good question, and I don't know the answer."
She is still surprised at how I told her I don't want to do sciences at A-level. "Who would you ask questions?" she asked.
I didn't say anything.
"You ask the kind of questions a brilliant scientist would ask. You always want to know about everything to the n-th degree."
She made me think about it. To be honest, I can't stop doing science altogether next year. I just can't. And she's right - I do have an unfortunate tendency to want to know the ins and outs of everything before I'll let it go.
I did think about doing Chemistry for A-level, but I don't know - I might do Physics. If Mrs Custard is still teaching me, I'd prefer it to Mrs Williams and her lemon yellow accoutrements.
I was talking about things that are changing. It seems extremely odd, but after the end of this year all the people I've known for so long will probably be dispersing. And a little more worrying is the fact I feel nothing about it. I'm so glad Becca isn't going - I couldn't face it without her - and I'm sorry Bev is going. But everyone else - that hasn't sunk in. I don't know if Enid's going or not.
And I don't know what to do with myself. I never thought I'd leave the three sciences and Maths behind me in favour of English and History and Politics... I rationalised it by thinking I was never that good at maths or science.
But now I'm having doubts.
I want to be a journalist. I think I do, anyway. This is, after all, the closest I've got to making a decision and sticking with it for a long time.
I guess it all boils down to how I see myself, and I don't know how I see myself.
I think I'll return to the mundane now. It might be easier that way.
The rain continued like a displaced day of the Great Flood... of course, the bus was late and I got drenched. Thankfully, Pedar had an attack of conscience in his office and decided he couldn't let me walk home in it, and he came to pick me up - only for the car to break down. Twice. The first time wasn't so bad, but the second time, we had to push it. Rather, he had to push it and I had to steer, which Pedar found inexplicably hilarious. Some lad on the other side of the street actually spent fifteen minutes helping us, which I thought extremely nice, as it was tipping down still. Thankfully, the car started a little further along, and we got home without incident.
I have to say I'm glad it's Friday. And I'm also glad to be home, and dry, and educated, and all the rest of it.
In case anyone is wondering, I have decided to try and leave spaces between paragraphs. Feedback on the innovation is appreciated.
