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My past week, maybe two, has consisted of not nearly enough sleep, poor eating habits, and headahes everywhere.
Oh, and xkcd. Can't forget about xkcd.
But as it is, that's only a slight increase in my mood. Apparently my school didn't count my ninth grade credits. I assume they decided, "Okay, wait a minute. This girl came from a tripped out halfway-done academy in one of the suckiest school systems in the state. She took eight classes a day, there was technically no credit system, and we can't match up any course names because their standards are different than ours. ...Screw this, we're gonna be lazy and wipe it."
So I'm sixteen, in the ninth grade, and in college, at the same time. It's like Michael Kearney all over again but, y'know, not really.
GAH. I'm in a friggin' ninth grade Biology class. Not AP bio (didn't get in fast enough), not accelerated or honors bio, just plain-old bio. Every day I get the notes done before the teacher's spent his ten minutes on the first few bullets.
Interphase. Metaphase, Anaphase, Telophase, blah blah BLAH. I know it all already! Mitosis, miosis, plant mitosis versus that in animals. I even got into an educated "debate" with my teacher about stem-cell research, and a few minutes in someone asked, "What's that?" Do ninth graders not watch the news? My social life sure isn't busy enough to drag me away from my five minutes of CNN a day.
It was bad enough when I had a class full of juniors and seniors and we were being taught like elementary students. But this is worse - ONLY because I'm in a class full of ninth graders.
Ninth graders.
There is NO way anyone I knew acted this preposterously in the ninth grade back home! Throwing things around the room, late for class because they stand outside the door until they realize the bell started ringing, scooching chairs around and tapping and sharpening pencils and "screaming: out harsh whispers to get someone's attention who's anywhere between a few inhes to a few yards away from them.
Why the hell did he seat me in the middle of the class?
Teacher: "Oh, if you don't stop talking, I'll enact time-outs and referrals and this and that and keep you from getting your pony for Christmas." (Our school actually has a standard time-out system, by the way. It's sort of like in-school detention.) And he NEVER does anything about it! The hypocrite!
And my mom's sur3e a lot of help. "Oh, you'll be fine. You told me you could graduate this year, and you're in the eleventh grade! You'll graduate on time!"
Wrong-O. I was going to have enough credits to graduate only because of my eight classes at my old school. Eight credits per semester there equaled sixteen half-credits per year there. If that's translated into my new school's Trimester system (one full year credit equals three half-trimester credits), I had 24 half-credits (so twelve full) by my sophomore year. Heck, even if they translated it into credit-for-credit, I still had eight whole, and I only need twenty-some whole-credits to graduate!
I don't fail classes - I just don't. So I'm getting fifteen half-credits per year (fourteen this year because I got scheduled for a class I'd already taken; if they try to fail me, I'm bringing their sorry asses to the Board of Education). That's fifteen whole credits for two years. If that's piled onto the twelve, I'll have twenty-seven credits by the end of this year - none too shabby, and I'll spend the extra on ego points. Even if it's compiled with the eight-factor I'll have twenty-three - all I'll need is a zero-hour to graduate.
But when they wiped the ninth grade, let's see what it gave me... Fifteen half-credits for last year, fourteen for this year (if they don't screw me over again), and hopefully I'll get my fifteen next year. That marks up to forty-four half-credits, or twenty-two whole ones. You can't take two zero-hours in a year, PLUS I plan on dual-enrolling. I can't graduate on time.
So I'm hoping I can get it through my principal's skull how unfair this is, as his isn't quite so thick as my counselor's. (Yeah, counselor's. I find it a bit funny that people who are trained to be mock-psychologists are so very able to screw with your school schedules. Not even - that they're the ones who manage them. Well, at least the former is expected.)
...
Dang. School even takes over my free time. Well, at least AP Chem's givin' me a break...