Monday, July 13, 2009/9:55 PM
today was a fucked up day.
I really really hope my mother doesn't read this. she'll be like 'namira! WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT WORD?!'
I was really expecting what happened today to happen to me. but sometimes, we can prove to be quite helpless towards overwhelming disappointment. sigh.
today, mr.wong just HAD to return our chemistry papers before our practical. it was really retarded because I scored really badly. like REALLY BADLY. it was the worse yet. I knew, KNEW I would get those kind of marks but when I saw the marks, it hit me like a slap on the face.
chemistry NAMIRA! you love chemistry! well, loved chemistry.
I managed to inconspicuously text syafiqah during lessons. we shared our 'progress' in claiming our mid-year results. sigh HOW NOW SYAF? our mid-years are screwed. we're both going to poly la like this.
after I got my paper back, I absolutely did not feel like doing practical, at all. I dragged my feet while retrieving my apparatus and did the whole experiment half-heartedly. I used to love practicals. especially since we get to walk around the lab wearing weird goggles and purposely bumping into our classmates and saying things like 'which coloured indicator should we use?' I used to feel smart in the labaratory. like when I expertly carried three test-tubes in one hand, poured chemicals into conical flasks effortlessly.
a chemistry experiment is like a dance cheography. everything is so rehearsed and precise. everything has to be perfect. from the volume of your limiting reagent right down to your last decimal point.
but today, it felt like the day I got an absurd scolding from Ms Hwee but worse.
when I was getting all my stuff ready for titration, I was thinking to myself, "What am I doing?" Why was I bothering with everything that I was attempting to do? Why did I have to bother to avoid parallex error or get the right number of beakers or round off my percentage to the appropriate number of significant figures when I clearly was not cut out for this?
I looked around. Every single person in the lab at that moment was smarter than me. They knew what they were doing. They weren't acting or posing for the 4H2 paparazzi like I was. I was living this double life. I was a secret agent infiltrating a top secret naval base in Ukraine. All I had to do was to steal the computer chip that controlled the massive satelite floating in space above the Indian Ocean that had the ability to tap into restricted American Military computer softwares in ten seconds.
Sure I could hold a gun, somersault or beat up the evil henchmen. But could I control the satelite? No. I was just the James Bond. James Bond isn't even bloody smart. in fact, he's fat.
but back to earth, I'm just a girl who can't understand chemical equilibrium.
if I can't even do that, how am I supposed to save the world?
I don't even know where Ukraine is.
To Siddiq and Fadhil whom I went home with just now,
thanks for the stories guys. now I cannot sleep. I must get my sister to read me a bedtime story. *shudders*
to my abang (yeah you know who you are): hey jetsetter, talk to me soon kay? have a safe trip (:
goodnight my lovely readers.
I really really hope my mother doesn't read this. she'll be like 'namira! WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT WORD?!'
I was really expecting what happened today to happen to me. but sometimes, we can prove to be quite helpless towards overwhelming disappointment. sigh.
today, mr.wong just HAD to return our chemistry papers before our practical. it was really retarded because I scored really badly. like REALLY BADLY. it was the worse yet. I knew, KNEW I would get those kind of marks but when I saw the marks, it hit me like a slap on the face.
chemistry NAMIRA! you love chemistry! well, loved chemistry.
I managed to inconspicuously text syafiqah during lessons. we shared our 'progress' in claiming our mid-year results. sigh HOW NOW SYAF? our mid-years are screwed. we're both going to poly la like this.
after I got my paper back, I absolutely did not feel like doing practical, at all. I dragged my feet while retrieving my apparatus and did the whole experiment half-heartedly. I used to love practicals. especially since we get to walk around the lab wearing weird goggles and purposely bumping into our classmates and saying things like 'which coloured indicator should we use?' I used to feel smart in the labaratory. like when I expertly carried three test-tubes in one hand, poured chemicals into conical flasks effortlessly.
a chemistry experiment is like a dance cheography. everything is so rehearsed and precise. everything has to be perfect. from the volume of your limiting reagent right down to your last decimal point.
but today, it felt like the day I got an absurd scolding from Ms Hwee but worse.
when I was getting all my stuff ready for titration, I was thinking to myself, "What am I doing?" Why was I bothering with everything that I was attempting to do? Why did I have to bother to avoid parallex error or get the right number of beakers or round off my percentage to the appropriate number of significant figures when I clearly was not cut out for this?
I looked around. Every single person in the lab at that moment was smarter than me. They knew what they were doing. They weren't acting or posing for the 4H2 paparazzi like I was. I was living this double life. I was a secret agent infiltrating a top secret naval base in Ukraine. All I had to do was to steal the computer chip that controlled the massive satelite floating in space above the Indian Ocean that had the ability to tap into restricted American Military computer softwares in ten seconds.
Sure I could hold a gun, somersault or beat up the evil henchmen. But could I control the satelite? No. I was just the James Bond. James Bond isn't even bloody smart. in fact, he's fat.
but back to earth, I'm just a girl who can't understand chemical equilibrium.
if I can't even do that, how am I supposed to save the world?
I don't even know where Ukraine is.
To Siddiq and Fadhil whom I went home with just now,
thanks for the stories guys. now I cannot sleep. I must get my sister to read me a bedtime story. *shudders*
to my abang (yeah you know who you are): hey jetsetter, talk to me soon kay? have a safe trip (:
goodnight my lovely readers.
self-proclamation.
My life is not a fascination worth the scrutiny of those who watch over me. Yet, I live amongst thin air and sparkling personalities.
I am an avid fan of the KoreanPop scene. So bring me to the number thirteen.
read my lips.
they're watching.
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