Schue Le Miserable

I couldn’t sleep last night. It was hard because I lied awake thinking, tossing.
I looked at walls and ceilings, and wondered if they all could speak to me.
What would they say? Would they tell me that I’m one stupid foolish girl? Would they consult me, talk to me; tell me that everything is going to be alright? Or would they yell at me and have a go at me? Maybe they would whisper to my mind some crazy ideas to get away from this misery. That would have been preferable. Now I sound schizophrenic.

Welcome to the lifestyle of the young and hopeless,

 Schue Le Miserable.

Nothing to do with the book (Les Miserables), which is a good one, suggested to me by a friend. I will read it Sam, thanks. I will read it one day, maybe in the year 2020. Because knowing myself, I can’t even bring myself to read a book now, let alone that one. And no, Kak Ainnul, even headbanging, with your hair wet in the shower singing to Avenged Sevenfold, or even SOAD'S Chop Suey doesn’t work. Neither is singing Gloria I-don’t-know-what’s I Will Survive, Abg Rashid.

I am miserable already. Very.

It’s about study. Always study, always academic. Well, not for me, at least. Right since kindy, school, college, matriculation, foundation years, everything has been alright for me. I consider myself pretty lucky because I am not the bury-your-nose-in-books type. But still I managed to get along. Still I made it through. I don’t know how.


Maybe it’s my rezeki. Must be the answer to my parents’ prayer every day after solat.

Undergrad years are tough. Way too tough, too hectic, too miserable. We’re the first batch of a ridiculous programme called PISMP B. Ed TESL, and the big guys who make big bucks, I mean the authorities or whatchamacallit are treating us like we’re some bunch of guinea pigs.

7 subjects to deal with; and only 2 of them are English. I don’t know how I will pass the likes of Child Development and Philosophy, because they’re to me, drier than the sand on a desert. And know what’s drier than sand of the desert? CD and Philosophy. Haha.

Let’s face it, I’m not smart. I’m don’t really study hard either. I might have passed the foundation with a pretty decent result all without studying, but that’s different. That was English. It was supposed to be okay.

And now, undergrad years, I feel so stupid already. I feel messed up; miserable; like I’ve made a wrong decision somehow. I have no interest in all these psychological stuffs. You’ll know, when you can’t even digest the page from Wikipedia on psychoanalysis or whatever that means.

So the walls that spoke to me this afternoon told me one solution. (now i will make this sound like an experiment report in Chemistry SPM Paper 3)

1. First, Get outta your bed.
2. Dress prettily (Looks to Kill) !!
3. Now, Go hang around Platino condominium, where one UNIT would cost up to 0.8 million bucks. (RM800,000)
4. Next,Hook up with some rich dudes with mega big bucks who lives there or something
5. Make them pay for the RM130,000 to MOE for breaching the contract signed in Foundation years
6. Get outta this hell!
7. Finally, What am I going to do next?

It’s not a bad idea after all.

But sadly I don’t have the looks that kill, whatever that means. It’s highly unlikely that I will hook up with rich dudes. For all you know I might “ter-goda” the Bangladesh workers there. Gruesome! And I wonder if even that works up to number 6, what’s the answer for 7?


I love teaching. I want to serve people, help them, play my part in eradicating poverty, promoting world peace, now i sound like i'm in a beauty pageant.
 
i will love teaching, i promise i will. i know i will. i'm sure i will. it runs in the genes.

it's the teacher training that i seriously dread.

Love yawll. Thanks for reading.