How to Counterbalance Study with Brainlessness

A frequent TC blog reader friend of mine pointed out today that for a while there not so long ago this blog went through a bit of a drought and now, suddenly, I’m back to regular posts.  Any reason for that?  Well I’d have to say that it’s got a lot to do with the insane decision to return to study before all of my course credits expired.  Let me explain.

I hate higher level learning.  Even as you sit through your classes you know that you’ll store the knowledge you’re meant to be soaking up into the “3 months max” mid-term memory centres.  The instant you finish your final exam, 90% of the semester’s efforts will be dumped from your hard drive.  Of the remaining 10% it will break down like so – 4% retained because it’s actually useful, 2% retained solely for trivia nights, 2% hidden in random memory centres and only ever used to win an argument when your chips are really down and the remaining 2% is the stuff that, while thoroughly useless, refuses to leave of its own volition and must be eradicated over time mainly through the consumption of alcohol.  Much alcohol, mainly vodka.

During periods of study I turn into a total zombie.  I withdraw from society and exist solely for work, kiddy-related activities and study, study, study.  All other intellectual pursuits fall by the wayside.  I have a theory that you are only given so much smart to work with.  If you use it up during semester trying to turn a recipe into biscuits or read a map, you will be rendered totally incapable of understanding the long term implications of Commercial Bank of Australia Ltd v Amadio no matter how many times you read it.  You can, however, counterbalance the drain on your brain power with the application of brainlessness.

Observe.  Bec’s usual activities – unguided study on topics that interest me, building, craft, cooking, etc.  Bec’s activities during study?  Well let’s see.  My accounting diploma gave me insomnia (which weirdly seemed to afflict all accounting students) and we all found ourselves watching some awful soap opera thing called “Sunset Beach” – the only program available on television at two in the morning apart from infomercials*. 

Sunset Beach was something like Days of Our Lives on a beach where the total implausibility and continuity of the plot and characters had been ratcheted up to within an inch of it's carefully contrived life.  Looking back now I'm convinced it was a bizarre sort of quasi-experimental test either to see how much tripe the public might swallow or to see just how cheaply bad television could be made.

During semesters we were all thoroughly hooked (and I do not mean just the women.  Even the guys were watching Sunny B and shuddering, “Oh my gawddd” over the juicier plot devices).  We’d gather in the CIT canteen over coffee to discuss Annie’s shock return from the dead** and whether Caitlin would ever reveal the loss of her pregnancy to Cole***.  If one of us was managing to sleep at night the other insomniacs would dutifully relate the contents of each night’s episode.  Even being temporarily banned from the cafeteria for re-enacting a particularly moving scene using the fried rice and awful spring rolls as props**** did not clue us in to the fact that we were way out of control.

And then something weird would happen.  Come holiday time and every single one of us would be back to the Financial Review and Four Corners.  Obviously Sunset Beach was our mental escape – a mindless distraction to counterbalance the mind numbing pain of audit control procedures.

Law was a similar story only this time we’d gossip over WHO Weekly and watch crap exposés on Today Tonight or A Current Affair.  You’d plow your way through as much Garcia v National Australia Bank as you could and then read something refreshingly vapid about who had been caught with whom celebrity bed-hop-wise.

With two kids, a husband and a job these days I have no counterbalance for the mental strain of study other than sleep.  And that’s okay but it means that semesters are like mental marathons. Now that it’s all over I feel like I’ve just been let off the leash.  I’m gorging myself on socialisation, building projects, craft projects, cooking escapades and snuggling up with my small family unit in bed.  And blogging.  Always with the blogging.

So there you go – expect much December and January and then nothing through until June!

*  And there are only so many steak knife sets you can own before you realise that, while using a steak knife is incredibly cool, a can opener is a much easier device to open cans of dog food with.  Faster, too.

**  Wanted for a crime she didn’t commit Annie hid in the coffin of a dead guy who was being flown across the country for burial in order to escape.  Unfortunately for Annie the widow of Mr Stiff decided at the last minute that it would be cheaper to cremate him before shipping.

*** Lost the baby in a car accident but was afraid she’d lose her man if she ‘fessed up because she thought the baby was the only reason he married her.  It wasn’t.  Aw.

**** Snow and search flares if memory serves.