Perhaps, I molded my chaos into madness. I appear calm, optimistic, clean, and content. Somehow, through the mirror lives a woman in flames. She screams, stretching her arms towards the ceiling for vengeance. The evil voices inside my head won full control over my cognitive abilities. Who can I trust now?
Fee cards, course packs, text books, and group projects. I could not hear the four horsemen of the apocalypse galloping toward me at first. Now, I stand with a cloud of dust in my face and track marks down my back.
Fee cards and course packs are so 20th century. I purchased a 10-dollar fee card for two of my courses this semester to receive nothing! The internet is not only the student’s best friend; it can also become the professor’s. Virtually everything inside of a course pack can be posted on E-learning. That way, I wouldn’t have to pay $25 for the course pack. Instead, I would actually utilize the 500-page prints offered to me every semester. The same goes for fee cards. Do not charge me $10, so you can take the time to distribute documents to class. Post the document on E-learning, and then I can print it off without making an extra payment.
Textbooks – oh, my favorite kind of books. I purchase my textbooks online, in order to save at least $100, yet I am still wasting money. More than half the time, the textbooks I purchase every semester collect dust in my shoe closet. Seriously, professors: require a textbook only if your boring PowerPoint presentations don’t consist of everything you have to know to pass the class! I cannot count how many times I received an A or a B in a course without even reading a single page in the textbook. When I attempt to return the textbooks, the cashier might tell me, “Oh, a new version of the book has been published, so we will no longer be accepting this version.” Of course, authors choose to re-write textbooks after I’ve suffered through an entire semester of holding what will soon be considered “the older version.”
The group projects are the true reason why I wake up in the morning grinding my teeth. Spring semester cursed my brain by placing me into three group projects for three different courses. Professors, my dear professors: why must I pay tuition to depend on other students for my grades? My hatred for humankind expands like a sheet of ice because I’ve been exposed to people who fit stereotypes. My peers are naturally self-absorbed, moronic, and lazy. I highly suggest you ditch the following stereotypes from your future group projects.
The athlete-student thinks attendance policies do not exist. Yes, the athlete-student, not the student-athlete. Athlete-students are constantly traveling to different campuses for competitions, and will rely on the rest of the group for progression. The two male athlete-students I had to deal with this semester half-assed everything, or played too dumb to comprehend any task. You would think such macho men could take charge, but I feel like I’m babysitting!
The girl who likes to talk just to hear herself, even if she has no idea what she’s talking about, most of the time, the chatterbox girl is one who anticipates graduation, and may be a super senior. Chatterboxes think they’ve had enough experiencewith school to take over. The chatterbox I had to listen to this semester labeled herself the coordinator of the group because she claims to stay organized. Miss Coordinator: maintaining a tidy bedroom and having a planner on steroids never means you can manage another person’s tasks and responsibilities.
The Greek will place the brothers and sisters before the group members on the priority list. “Oh, I am just doing so much for my business fraternity, and I just cannot meet on any of those days,” the excuse will be repeated over time. Here’s a tip for the Greek: ease up on the extracurricular activities if you are on the verge of failing your courses. The Greek whose hand I had to hold this semester did not send in her assigned portion of the written report until 12 hours before the assignment was due. At the top of the Greek’s document read the words, “Rough Draft.” To put basically, the Greek will wait until the last minute (in hopes that you will forget their responsibilities), and will not take the time to polish their work. My entire group felt the burden of the Greek.
Then there is the person who feels he/she is on another level of brain activity, yet maintains a 2.5 GPA, and has not even applied for a major. Oh, this type is hard to spot in the beginning. Polite, friendly, and seemingly insightful, the claimed know-it-all will feed you ideas and concepts that only a specialist would know. My claimed know-it-all informed me that I would not pass the course we shared because I never attended office hours. Then, the dude had the nerve to say that I have to claim a major at least two semesters before I graduate, and that summer semesters did not apply to this rule. Neither of the rules the claimed know-it-all stated is factual. I stopped listening to this guy the next day, but made sure I informed him how wrong he was. Through the claimed know-it-all, however, I learned how to trust my ambitions more.
Of course, many other stereotypes will hamper your group project. For instance, the pothead, the freshman, the rusher, the Facebook freak, the mediocre dreamer, or the promise breaker, but these stereotypes should remain self-explanatory.
My creative ideas get shut down like a college kid’s bridge card. The energy I wasted on gluing my group together should have been focused on XBOX Live. In group projects, you are either the ass, or the doormat. Every time, I end up as a doormat. Even though I felt invisible in my groups, I wish I could just disintegrate in the bathtub. I’m not the only one who is unsure about the outcome of college, but I’m afraid. I’m not the only person in the world who has had bad experiences with group projects, but I feel alone. Many more unfortunate events seek my front door, but I’m still pissed off.