Warm Days, Finals and Other Ponderings

Oh, the joys of Edmonton weather. Tuesday was so cold, everyone had their Eskimo parkas on. I think it was at least -20. The ground was covered in a nice, thick blanket of snow, assuring all who cared that we were certain to have a White Christmas.

Today, those hopes are in jeopardy, as the weather warmed up to a balmy 8 degrees and all the snow melted away. Although I'm sure that in the next two weeks, the weather will drop and it will snow once again, it felt wrong to be listening to Christmas music on the way home from school. To be honest, there's something magical about a cold December and drinking hot chocolate to warm up. It just feels that much more... romantic... in a 19th century novel kind of way. Oh well, my anthem for today: "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..."

But, to think I missed the balmy "winter" day to be inside studying. Now that I've achieved the goal of the past few years of getting into Business school (note: I didn't get rejected that many times, that's just how much time it's been since I thought "I'd like to go into business," did all my prerequisites, and raised my GPA), there seems to be little practical reason to do well in my classes. I decided at the beginning of the semester that my goal for the remainder of my degree was to learn, rather than get good marks. But, here I am, writing out cue cards to memorize meaningless definitions for my Marketing exam... and skimping on studying for my Management Science exam because I can do well without really knowing what I am doing. I don't know why it is so firmly embedded in me that marks matter... because no one else cares. Anyway, it is a mystery I could ponder for sentences and paragraphs and blog posts without ever finding an answer, and boring everyone to death, so I'll stop now.

I said there would be other ponderings in this blog, but I don't know yet what they are... it just sounded more poetic to add it to the end of the title. And alas, I must go clean the bathroom now. That is the poetry of real life. At Christmas, I always want to feel like I am somehow a literary character or something... it is such a reflective time and I always think big thoughts. But then real life calls in the form of a dirty toilet and impending company and I am jolted from that literary romance. And with that, I depart from the life in my head to the trudging reality that is.