Observation No. 6
While studying yesterday, I asked P.M. to explain one of Brother Neff's handwritten papers to me. He took it and basically read exactly what was there. They were equations and it all made sense all of a sudden.
I immediately wondered how I could've been so stupid. It was so simple. Why couldn't I figure it out on my own? Why didn't I wait longer before I asked him to explain?
"That's really simple. You read exactly what was there," I said.
"Yup. I translated it though," he said kindly.
"Still though. I should've been able to figure it out on my own. That makes me feel bad about myself. I feel bad about myself a lot."
Flashbacks of every Discrete Math project we've done crept onto my brain windows, peering in, oozing with filthy, black unworthiness.
The class that had been the highlight of my intellectual life had turned into a stream of gremlins.
"Yup. You do," he responded sincerely.
"Yeah, I do."
My face must have changed because then he said, "Don't feel bad about yourself for feeling bad about yourself."
I immediately wondered how I could've been so stupid. It was so simple. Why couldn't I figure it out on my own? Why didn't I wait longer before I asked him to explain?
"That's really simple. You read exactly what was there," I said.
"Yup. I translated it though," he said kindly.
"Still though. I should've been able to figure it out on my own. That makes me feel bad about myself. I feel bad about myself a lot."
Flashbacks of every Discrete Math project we've done crept onto my brain windows, peering in, oozing with filthy, black unworthiness.
The class that had been the highlight of my intellectual life had turned into a stream of gremlins.
"Yup. You do," he responded sincerely.
"Yeah, I do."
My face must have changed because then he said, "Don't feel bad about yourself for feeling bad about yourself."
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