BerthaBlog

I’ve continued to scour the college job postings, internet job boards, and temp agencies. I have seen a number of part-time positions, but so far only heard back from one of them—and they wanted someone who could work from eight to four on Mondays, which I’d be unable to do because of classes.

Meanwhile, I’ve added another class to my rotation. A classmate alerted me to a “continuing education” class in Quickbooks being offered by our college; as nearly every business nowadays is using Quickbooks, I signed up for it. I’ve heard rumors that Wake Tech will be adding a Quickbooks class to its accounting curriculum, but that’s a bit late to affect my degree.

I’ve also been scheduling dentist appointments for myself and the boys, teacher meetings, doctor appointments, and all the other assorted claptrap that comes with managing a couple of kids. Yesterday in the dentist’s waiting room I started wondering how I would juggle all those things around a job. I’ll figure it out when the time comes, I guess.

Classes are cruising along pretty easily this semester, mostly because I’m taking half as many classes as I did last spring. It’s much easier to keep up with the coursework for three classes than it is for six. It helps that most of the stuff in Business Finance was covered in Intermediate Accounting I and II. Now that I’m in the third class that covers bonds, I think I’m finally starting to get a handle on them. (I never claimed to be a genius.)

I sit in the front row whenever I can, so I generally don’t know what the other students are doing during class. Apparently what they’re not doing is taking notes; the instructor expressed concern on Monday that several of the students (who, coincidentally enough, sit in the very back) never take notes in class. Strangely enough, they also seem to be struggling with the material.

Me, I write down everything the instructor writes on the board. Even if it’s already in the book, I write it down again in the margins just to remind myself that the instructor was emphasizing that information. I take most of my notes in the margin of my textbook; the thing is covered in notes, hand-drawn tables, and highlighting. Hard to believe I was reluctant to write in my book at all my first semester. After I found out how little I’d get for reselling ‘em, even in pristine condition, I said “screw it” and made full and enthusiastic use of the textbooks. I chalk up the cost of ‘em to the overall investment I’m making in this degree.

Last night I spent a good ten minutes fretting over a difficult homework problem. My husband was sympathetic up to the point where he found out it was an extra credit assignment. “You’re stressing this much over extra credit?”

“It’s worth five points on the next test!”

But I wasn’t the only one; this morning Sweet Studious Boy and I were tag-teaming the instructor, trying to coax her into giving us hints on a couple of the harder extra credit problems. (SSB has started wearing glasses this semester. He’s so cute in those things I could eat him up. So to speak.) And the Svelte Beauty who sits on the other side of me approached for some advice as well. Clearly I’m not the only overachiever who was working on the extra credit two days before it was due. I imagine it’s frustrating for the instructor, though—she mostly gave the extra credit to help out the people who haven’t done too well on the tests. The students who are working hardest on her extra credit assignment are probably the ones who need it the least.