Edumacation

Hello.

I know you guys are still here because I can review my traffic counter and I know that, even though I disappeared off the face of the earth, you guys still check back to see if I've died.

Faithful readers.

What's wrong with you? You should have run while you had the chance.

Guess what I did.

I went and registered for classes this fall.

I KNOW.

WTF was I thinking?

I mean, college courses are so very obviously designed for young people in their twenties with functioning brains. For God's sake, I'm thirty-th... I'm not that young anymore.

But I did it. And I could describe the first three weeks of classes to you, but honestly? It wouldn't be funny. Oh, sure I could put a goofy twist on it. But I was a mess.

Inside my head. On the outside I'm sure I looked alright. I mean, I managed to shower every day and put my clothes on right-side out. I made a friend. Sort of.

That was about it, though.

Also, you find out weird things when there are people trying to educate others.

Like.

I'm taking a Human Development class that I am finding incredibly insightful. Only.... Apparently there's this thing we all have called an Inner Critic.

That voice that whispers in your ear Put down that super cute top marked 50% off because after that cookie you ate three days ago, your fat ass can't fit in anything other than a Mumu.

That may have been a little harsh, and it's just a generic example, but our inner critic is kind of a bitch. At least, mine is. Maybe yours is a little nicer and a bit more eloquent. I'll bet my Critic could learn a little something from yours. Don't get any ideas about getting those Critic's together for a mixer, though. The world could end.

Now that we know there's a bitch lurking in my head, allow me to introduce you to my other personality.

My Inner Defender.

Who is a giant pansy ass, by the way.

Also, I'm certain that personality is not the correct term, but you know what? Unless you're a licensed psychologist and can help me get rid of one and do a massive over-haul on the other, we'll just stick with the word personality. Because if we start referring to them as suppressed personas I will most likely freak out because I think that's some kind of actual condition that's different from what I'm complaining about. I'm not sure, but I think that the Critics aren't quite classified that way.

I could be wrong.

Anyway, who gives a rip.

And quit making me out to be the weird one because I learned that we all have this, so nice try. There are varying levels of crazy going on in all our heads. Some of us just hide it better than others.

Last Saturday, the instructor was going on about this Critic and how it's always bringing us down, man. She was explaining that we need to make sure we learn how to give our Inner Defender a voice in order to silence the Critic.

Hold on.

So there is this Red Devil Bitch Critic and she's mean. She yells rude things and tries to squash self-esteem.

And the Defender is supposedly MUTE? They chose the passive one to conquer the feelings?

DUDE.

Whomever wrote out this equation needs their ass kicked because it was doomed from the start.

Plus, my Critic and my Defender don't even speak directly to me. They already talk to each other. About me. When I can hear them.

I think they're both a-holes, anyway.

The Critic complains about my apparent failures, and the Defender is all like, "Yeah. I mean, you're right. But did you have to use that kind of language?" Which kind of makes her a Critic herself.

Nice going, Defender. You're going to want to update your resume.

Our homework before the next class is to write down everything our Critic says, then analyze it.

The instructor handed us a single sheet. With like, ten boxes. For two weeks.

Riiight.

My Critic will have that filled over the next day or so.

Less, if the Defender opens her mouth for an assist.