Chemistry Athiest

For the first time in I don't know how many days, I am enjoying some free time that is not being taken up by homework, children, cooking, cleaning, laundry, or anything else that finds a way to demand my attention.  Mini XY found a piece of rope that Big XY had left lying around the house and proceeded to try to hogtie everything in sight, his favorites being Baby XX and The Mutt.  I'm only thankful that, at three years of age, he not yet old enough to learn how to tie his own lassos.  However, I know it's only a matter of precious time before his genetics and familial upbringing set in and my sweet innocent Mini XY becomes a full-fledged, no-holds-barred, ornery as all get out, slime, snails, and puppy dog tails little boy!  (I'm really praying that puppy dog tails come still attached to a living dog--traumatizing, to say the least, if it turns out the other way!)

But, thanks be given, Mini XY and Baby XX are napping, chemistry has already eaten up about 4 hours of my life today, and in my humble opinion, housework can go to heck for the time being.  The snow has just started coming down and I'm enjoying the peaceful serenity of watching the flakes fall to the incredible soundtrack of "Independence Day."  It seems to bring an entirely new dynamic to a simple snowfall, like as if John Williams pushed God out of the way and informed him, ever so nicely, "I'm taking over the weather today, thank you very much!"  Perhaps he should play weatherman more often!  (Yes, I'm fully aware that John Williams did not score "Independence Day," and that it was the wonderful David Arnold who came up with one of my favorite scores of all time!) 

Chemistry homework today has comprised of writing out balanced equations in acidic and basic solutions.  If you thought writing out proofs in geometry was rough, this is in a whole other ball field!  I never understood the point of proofs.  "The lines intersect because they do!"  "The angle is 98 degrees because it is!"  "A triangle is a triangle because it has three sides!"  Chemistry has the same effect on my brain.  OH-+MnO4-+C2O4-2-=MnO2+CO3-2+H20 because it does!  I really despise writing out a page long solution to one problem--all the while remembering which of the 6, 7, 8, 19...20..35...steps is involved in balancing this blasted equation in an acidic solution.  What I'd really love to do is take my entire notebook, dissolve it in some lovely hydrochloric or sulfuric acid, then balance that equation by flushing it down a laboratory sink!  That's my kind of equation balancing! 

The Trouble With Chemistry

Let's start off by giving this blog its proper introduction.  I am in my first term as a secondary biology education student at Western Governors University.  Having already passed one course, I found my old nemesis, chemistry, staring me down the barrel of the proverbial gun.  I am currently writing this as I take a break from my seemingly incessant studying of my least favorite subject in the entire world.  If I were Superman, chemistry would be my Kryptonite.  Every time I open up my online study guide, it feels like bashing my head repeatedly against a brick wall.  It never does anything to the wall, but I leave with nothing short of the world's worst headache.

I have already taken chemistry once, many moons ago (ok, like 4 years, but it seems like an eternity!)  With the changing of my degree requirements coming one short month before my term started, and the school having changed their 5-credit chemistry course into two 3-credit courses, my puny 5-credit Intro. to Chemistry class no longer held any clout.  And thus, I find myself loathing turning on the computer and taking pen in hand to muddle through the mind-numbingly mundane mud that is chemistry. 



The one bright, shining light at the end of my tunnel: my practice test is coming up on Saturday, if not soon!  Should I be able to pass this test with the required 76% and not the horrific 44% that I received the first time I took the test (blind, have you, as I had not even looked into the course subject matter yet), I will be able to finally test out of this blasted class!  I've continuously told my husband that I plan to hold a ceremonial sacrificial bonfire and offer up my class notes on a flower-strewn pyre to the demonic gods of chemistry, whatever their names be (I'm pretty sure they're the kinds you say three times in front of the mirror while you stand in the pitch black bathroom on Halloween).  I also plan to take my husband's shotgun--the one that knocks me on my butt and leaves my ribs black and blue for a week--and blow a couple of holes into my chemistry text book, then have it framed and hung at the front of my future classroom as a constant reminder of the coals I had to walk on and the deities I've cursed to get to where I finally want to be!