Now, sit back, turn on your listening ears (or listening eyes...whatever), and let Johanna tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there were two rabbits. One rabbit was super smart, the other rabbit was as dumb as a bag of rocks (a really STUPID bag of rocks!). Nobody really understood why the two rabbits hung around with each other. Well, maybe it was because the stupid rabbit was sort of clingy. Whatever. That's not what the story is about.
So these two, very opposite rabbits were just hanging out, chewing on clovers and wiggling their noses and whatever the else rabbits do with their time. They're in the middle of the forest and they come across this clearing. In the middle of the clearing is a tree. Hanging from this tree is a carrot. The carrot is close to the ground, and is in easy reaching distance for rabbits with strong haunches (for our purposes, both of our rabbits have strong haunches).
The first rabbit, the super smart one, is like, "Hey now, carrots don't just hang themselves from trees. I wonder who put it there, and why? On the one hand, I love carrots, and that one is in easy reaching distance (since I have strong haunches). It looks ripe and lovely and it's been forever since I've raided the farmer's garden. On the other hand, I'm beginning to suspect that someone deliberately put it there for a reason that will ultimately pose a risk to my well-being. I don't like this situation; I'm going to hop away." (See what I mean? See how smart this rabbit is? How many rabbits do you know that think thoughts and make logical assumptions like that??)
The second rabbit, the one that's dumber than a really STUPID bag of rocks sees the carrot and is like, "Oh my gosh!! A CARROT! OH MY GOSH! How lucky can a guy get?! CARROT! CARROT! CARROT!"
And that was when the super smart rabbit looked around. He realized that he was alone. He realized that he'd always been alone. He realized why the stupid rabbit was always with him. He realized something was terribly wrong. And then he was like, "Oh, snap, I have two personalities!"
Yes, it's true. Then he said to himselfs, "What am I going to do now? Half of me wants to go running off half-cocked and grab that carrot (yes, he's still on the carrot) without taking the risks and ramifications of my actions into account. The other half realizes that the first half of me is as stupid as a bag of rocks and wants to calmly turn around, hop back to the rabbit colony, and get some serious antipsychotic drugs. What is a seriously messed up rabbit to do?"
The End.
Now that I've actually typed it out, I realize that my story really bares no resemblance at all to the story of the Ant and the Grasshopper. Weird. Now, I'm sure you're all wondering how IN THE WORLD this story could possibly pertain to my own life. Fear not! All is about to be revealed to you!
So There I Was. Sitting at my desk doing homework for my college algebra class that I just started. I was bemoaning the fact that I have to do college algebra at all, and, to put some perspective on it, I decided to see what the last section was that we would be learning in this class.
Apprehensively, I clicked on the schedule and scrolled to the last day of class (cause we do everything on computers nowadays. SCC is super high-tech). What I saw stopped me cold. It confused me and frightened me (two feelings I often associate with math in general). The last thing we learn is something I already sort of semi-know!
I leafed through the book, realizing that, according to the website, we only learn five chapters. What?? My confusion and fright were escalated. This was not possible! I felt like a rabbit looking at a carrot hanging from a tree, wanting to believe that what I was seeing was real and not a trick or some sort of cruel joke, but unwilling to believe that that was the case.
I'm still unsure what to make of it all. I like the thought of only learning five chapters (several of those chapters covering stuff I already did in intermediate algebra), but I just can't bring myself to believe that college algebra could be that easy. Don't get me wrong, it would be nice, but you can't really blame me for being skeptical.
Kind of like a jewel thief is creeping through a building that he is robbing, and he comes upon a doorway, and that doorway is protected by a single laser, going straight across. It is chest high, and reminds him of one of the beginning levels of LIMBO. He wonders why it is even there. Obviously it doesn't protect the doorway even remotely. Are there more lasers--invisible ones--criss-crossing throughout the rest of the doorway, just waiting to slice him in half if he tries to insult the intelligence of the Doorway Security Man and break out his mad LIMBO skills?
Then, he realizes that he's not actually a thief. He's actually a Norwegian double-agent trying to infiltrate an international drug cartel and pose as a dealer just long enough to get enough information to take them down and save the world (since, of course, the drug cartel guys are also making large quantities of atomic weapons that they plan to unleash on every major city in the world, duh.)
Hmm, I think I like telling stories...
