Mondays

Mondays are fairly crummy days. I used to have six damn classes on this particular day, but from this week forward I have luckily only five. If we present week days as Monday being in the middle:

Friday – Saturday – Sunday – Monday – Tuesday – Wednesday – Thursday

It would make sense to say that Thursday and Friday are the best days of the weeks, since they are as far removed from Monday as possible, given the massive crumminess value of Monday. Of course, the rest of the week days have their own plethora of unique craptastic obstacles as well.

The Monday last week (which would be the 22nd of March 2010) was a particularly craptastic one, at least from my point of view. It was the final Physics test that day. But not only had I forgotten to take the Physics book in school over the weekend, leaving me uncertain whether I could pass it, I had also no idea where it was going to take place. It’s usually in the assembly hall or the auditorium, but since my program, SMNV, is doing a bit of its own race, this was not the case. I decided to lock myself in a public bathroom and call my mother and inquire my mother about what to do. I began to cry. I hadn’t cry in a long time, so it felt… relieving. My mother finally told me to go to the school office and tell them I would go home earlier. I stood there in the bathroom a while after the call had ended. Just look into the mirror and observe that person standing there. And then, with renewed determination, I finally headed for the office. I walked there very deliberately and carefully, feeling like I really shouldn’t supposed to be there. I spotted the principal of the NV, SMNV and TE programs filling up his coffee in the teacher lounge, all alone as well. I finally gathered some courage and walked up to him. I wondered where I could call in sick. He told that he could write it down himself no problem. He asked me whether I had a stomach ache, a fever or something like that. I hesitated a second or two, and then finally said that it was more like depression. He asked me to come to his office. He inquired me about any problems I had in school, and I told him about not only the problems I had with Physics, but also that I was falling behind in the Mathematics C course. He said he would talk to my Math and Physics teacher about it, and told me to go home, but urged me to return on Tuesday.

Fast-forward to the Monday of this week. The day before, Sunday, I had had a headache. I didn’t really feel overly enthusiastic about going to school, but figured I better should. The night was somewhat uneasy. I went to the bathroom about 3-4 times. And after I had gone to bed I suddenly decided to aimlessly stroll in the kitchen, since I had a lot on my mind. I think I was near lying down on Vodka (one of my two kittens) at one point, but fortunately he walked away. I finally fell asleep. Now, on this particular Monday, I had an oral English presentation. It was so set-up, that there were four subjects. Randomly chosen subjects, which one was supposed to have formed an opinion of. I would then gather with a small group of students, and the teacher would record everything. I was quite nervous. The subject was finally “Genetic engineering should be used to create good citizens”. The three other students took turns in speaking, and then it was my turn to speak, I started out with saying something like “it puts a price tag in people”, and then I just froze. It wasn’t that I was ill-prepared for it, I lost my train of thought. The teacher finally stopped the recording. I mumbled something about being nervous, and the teacher said I would get a second chance to say something later. And so the recording continued, and the discussion continued. After a while, the teacher finally asked me to speak. This time, I actually managed to say something. I invoked Godwin’s Law, said something about a group full of ADHD students with one neurotypical, mentioned how, in Sweden, people had been forcefully sterilized from the 1920’s to the 1960’s and then talked about myself as an aspie. And so the discussion was over.

Later that day, my English teacher asked me to come to her office. She talked about how she would take my Asperger’s Syndrome into account, how I did manage to say something in the end, how I was doing good in English orally, and how it was highly unlikely I would get anything else but the highest grade in English. Ah, that’s a relief then. I don’t care overly much about my performance in other subjects (or at least that’s what I somewhat unsuccessfully try to convince myself), but English is fluckin’ personal.

Also, during the Psychology class that very same day, we took a small test to see what our degree of coherence in our lives were. The test, and the teacher himself, told us that we shouldn’t dwell overly much on it since they are heavily dependent on what mood one is in at the time of taking the test. Fair enough, I thought. The average score for Swedish students, as well as American, was 130. 110 was considered low and 160 high. I scored 104. True, it wasn’t the grandest of my days. But the test also mentioned that Israeli officer candidates had an average of 160, because they were and extremely selected group who were convinced of the meaningfulness of what they were doing. Now, if I had to compile a list of groups of people across the world I thought were doing a jolly good job, Israeli officer candidates wouldn’t be anywhere near the top. Even America is falling out with Israel these days. I gotta wonder about people who have such a great coherency in their lives. Do they never stop and consider if what they’re doing is good or meaningful? How can they be so certain about the direction their lives are going? To quote Oliver Cromwell, “I beseech you in the bowels of christ, think it possible you may be mistaken.”

And so, we’re on Tuesday. The good thing about Tuesdays is that Monday is behind it, giving one strength to get through the rest of the week. This Tuesday was the first day this semester in which I was supported by a teacher in Mathematics. She had been my Chemistry teacher. I had failed Chemistry last year, but with her help I was able to pass it, if only by the margin of a strand of hair. I’m quite happy she takes the time to explain things with me. I feel that I understand things much better when she points things out for me. I might just be able to pass both Physics and Mathematics.

What have I been trying to say with this blog post? Hmm, natural science isn’t my forté. Mondays suck. But, perhaps most importantly, things are perhaps not as bad as one think it is. Perhaps one can overemphasize on one negative thing, and feel bad about it. To say in a cheerful manner “after rain comes sunshine” (oh, the cliché) and realize that perhaps one’s life isn’t ruined, that’s, well, vital. Cough. Anyhow, that’s all the mad raving from me I can offer for now.

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