Difficult

Hey sweeties!

I am one of those people that as soon as I have an idea I have to write it down or do it. Immediately.  I have to do it right away or else I will forget it. I usually try to combat this by having my laptop near to me so I can write it out. I want the laptop in front of me as my fingers click across the keyboard.  Or when I’m having a brain storm kind of day I like to have a small notebook nearby for quick notes or doodles. Lately those moments happen when I’m away from the computer. Like at work, or eating, or with family, or friends, or etc. Like today; had a blog post idea. A brilliant idea. A fantastic idea. A brilliantly fantastic idea for a blog post. 

But its gone. Might as well call that idea Elvis. Because it has left the building.

(And by ‘the building’ I mean my mind. But of course you knew that because you’re smart cookies.)

I still however have a desire to write. I don’t know what but I just need to write something. I have to hear that clickity clack of the keyboard keys. But its difficult. Some days it is difficult for me to sit down in front of the computer and write something. Most days it’s incredibly difficult. I need to be in the right frame of mind. I have to know exactly what I want to share. So when I actually want to write it’s a big deal.

Maybe I could write about the difference between ‘hard’ and ‘difficult’ as described by my college English professor.  I mean, why not right?

My professor was an interesting man. He was slightly off. Perhaps it was from being born and raised in New York City and then switching to small town Iowa. He’s a balding man with the long length of hair he does have left tied back in a ponytail. His scraggly beard almost matches the length of his hair. He always wore button up shirts with jeans and boots. In his right hand was a cane. I was never sure if he actually needed to use it, but it followed him everywhere.  During class he would leave it hanging from the edge of the dry erase board. He arrived before any other teacher and left after every teacher. He only left his office to use the ‘facilities’, teach class, or to go on a smoking break. As he strolled through the hallways, cane in hand, he would sing the notes of “If I Only Had A Brain” from the Wizard of Oz. Like I said, interesting.

During the first week of class he decided to give us a small lecture. He told us how someone had told him his class was hard.

“Hard,” he repeated. “That’s what they said. ‘You’re class is too hard.’ They said it like it was an insult.” He paused and reached for his cane. Pulling it up into his hands he looked down at it. “However, I am insulted by their use of words.”  With his free hand he gestured towards his feet,
“The ground is hard,” then with the cane he firmly hit the desk in front of him and raised his voice “This desk is hard. But my class? My class is difficult. Learn the difference.” Taking a step back he rested the cane back in its place and moved back behind his lector before addressing the class again.
“Life is difficult. Life is much more difficult than my class. If you can’t make it through this class then good luck making it through life. And if you feel like this is too much? There’s the door. You won’t be missed.”

The next class several students were missing. Turned out they dropped the class. A few were offended by the ‘difficult’ lecture and others by what he wrote on our first papers. I was terrified but didn’t think it would be that bad. So I stayed and worked through the madness. By the end of the semester I was struggling with all the papers and my other class’ course load. (I will never suggest anyone to take 5 classes a semester while working a ‘part time’ job. I say ‘part time’ because I was working 35-40 hours a week.) And unfortunately because of circumstances I missed four classes. My grade was dropped to a ‘high’ C-. Turned out that I needed .2 or something ridiculous like that to get a C. And I needed a C to pass. So of course I had to retake the English course and I bet you’ll never guess as to who my professor was.

Second time around he wasn’t that intimidating. I knew his tricks and could tell when he was putting on that ‘New York charm’ to scare us. I asked more questions and focused more in the class.  I know it was easier because I had already been in the class before, and the lesson plan was the same thing to a t. But every paper I had to rewrite. I couldn’t use the same material so that was difficult, yet it was still one of my favorite classes. As I progressed through the class I came to respect him and appreciate him and his quirky ways. I think I became one of his favorite students in the class. He always wrote great reviews on my papers and told students to ask me for peer reviews. (Peer reviews were a big deal.) He thanked me for being a good student after the last day.  It’s been a while since the class but I still remember every paper we wrote and the ‘difficult’ lesson will stick with me forever.

I bet you’re wondering what’s the moral of our story? I’m glad you asked;

When life is getting you down and people are driving you insane, just remember. It is difficult. It is supposed to be difficult. If it wasn’t difficult, it wouldn’t be worth doing it. Just think of something that will help you through it. I have a quote hanging up on my wall that reads “When it rains look for rainbows. When it’s dark; look for stars.” It reminds me too keep an eye out for that silver lining. The silver linings are what make life worth all that trouble. Sometimes that is the only thing that gets me through the day. So go out and find your silver lining. Go out and find something that makes life worth all the nonsense. It can be shoes, chocolate, flowers, stars, or rainbows. Anything that makes you smile or causes your little heart to flutter in joy. Whatever it is I hope you find it and treasure it always.

 

Stay sweet!
-Diana