So that was a waste of $2,000 ...

Three hurrahs for my Strategy of Technology class coming to an end! If only it would have met its end in a more pleasant way, I'd be completely rested today and very happy.

The class itself was okay - the information was of some interest to a geek like me, but the professor butchered that class in such a way that I hardly knew what assignments we had from week to week. Syllabus? What's that? He was using a syllabus from someone who used to teach the class and never bothered updating it. So the assignments on that were not what we actually needed to do - ever!

As far as yesterday goes, my grade was a 97% - I think. I'd say I actually knew if he'd graded half the work I was supposed to do, so who knows, maybe I really had a B. In order to clarify some things, he let us ask a slew of questions the first night. One of our questions was would the final be open or closed book. Open, he says. I wrote that down as I'm very attentive to things that might affect my nerdy GPA.

Last week he gives us a list of ten obscure and fairly random questions. Many of them are from readings that were never assigned, and of course this guy never once lectured on any key points. Then he says, "Well, I can pretty much guarantee that numbers 1, 3, 4 and 6 will be on the final. I like to ask those. Plus you need to evaluate one of the (many, many) videos we watched."

Sweet. I can do that. I studied on the way to and from Kirkwood last weekend, which means I was up reading homework, taking notes, all that scholarly crap in the car at 6:00am. Bleh.

I get to class last night to find out our final is not open book, so all the cute little tabs I have (Evan calls these "page savers") from my super cool 3M pink highlighter that I rescued from the snow outside of Brennen's condo won't even help me.

Shit.

My face flushes and I break out into a light sweat underneath my Desperate Housewives tracksuit. (I was too bloated to wear real pants) I'm cursing to myself, totally freaked out, because even *I* cannot bullshit that well.

A minute later I have a mild epiphany: Nothing really matters. I'm here, I have to take the test, so what's the use in worrying about how I really know nothing at all?

He gives us the test and lo and behold only like half the questions he told us to research were even on there. Nice. Very cool. Fortunately I knew the basics of most of them and scribbled with a fury I haven't seen since my honors English class of junior year. I finished in just under an hour. Five essay questions.

At this point I'm pretty sure I've blown my A, if I ever had one. I'm a little bummed, but I'm gonna buy burritos for Nick and I and relax to prepare for my Economics final.

Outside the Burrito Shop a man selling Street Week asks me for money. Lying I explain that I have no cash and I'm sorry, a byproduct of working in San Francisco for so long. Then he says, "A chicken or steak taco would be nice. On your way out?"

Fine. I buy him one of each, bring him salsa, a fork, and a napkin and realize that one grade in a poorly taught class doesn't mean anything. The moment I bought someone else food they couldn't afford (even if he does have some cash on him) I did something far more meaningful than getting an A in a class no one will ever think about again.

Cheers.

Tonight is Econ. Of course I haven't studied ... we'll see if I can blow this A too.

;)