I'd Rather Tell You a Story

Today is the day of me deciding i just might not have the brain for this school thing. For some reason the simple act of organizing a paper which I have been researching for weeks is nearly impossible. Turns out, upon analysis, that the problem is all about narrative.

Papers in policy science (I guess you'd call it) apparently require a scientific sort of framework for arguments. You know, with givens and hypotheses and arguments and indicators and things. Of course I know that in the abstract, but when it comes right down to it, I always tell my paper to myself in a narrative. That's what a literature degree and years of dramaturgy will get you, I guess. The best part is that I'm always working toward a happy ending in the narrative. It's kind of funny, really. It took me quite awhile and not a few tears to for it to really sink in. And now I'm forcing myself to proceed in what is essentially a foreign language. There are no epiphanies or catharses. No redemptive possibilities. Just conclusions. Damn, I miss theatre.

Bottom line, I'm struggling. And I'm really pushed for time on these projects. I'd do this semester differently and with more focus if I had it to do over. But it's a one-year program, so I don't. This is it. I don't get another chance to use what I've learned about teacher communication styles and expectations as expressed through films and filters and evasions and laziness. I've nearly figured out what it is they want (I hope), but I'm not sure there's time left to produce it.

I know this is what all student bloggers say and they always come out brilliantly in the end. But this one might be real. I might fail at some of these assignments. I might not be as good at this as most of my classmates. I'm facing it, and I'm pushing on. Wish me luck.

PS thanks to J. for talking me through these devastations and making me pasta with rosemary and zucchini. (After I ate it he said, "That plant that looks like rosemary is rosemary, isn't it?" Strangely, it cheered me up.)

Then my sister called and told me surreal and troubling tales of her special ed classroom. I guess we've all got our crosses to bear.