Okay, because I have a Maths Test (Paper 2 – Statistics and Pure) on Tuesday, which is tomorrow, I have been doing copious amounts of maths in the past few days.
Okay not as copious as you might have imagined, like not to the extent that I go about completing every single revision question in that freaking thick revision booklet, but waaaay more than I usually do.
Usually I don’t do maths.
Because maths is disgusting and mind-blowing and un-environmentally friendly. When I do maths I feel myself morphing into the paper-devouring zombie who has really bad temper and has the tendency to finish HALF a stack of foolscap paper just to do 1 chapter of bloody maths question.
What is even worst is not even the tedious, eye-drying, blood-curdling process of ploughing your way through a seemingly endless list of “what is the probability of blah?” or “using suitable approximation to blah blah blah…”, although it is rather hard to think of another activity on par with the level of terror.
Nope. What is most terrifying is when you have to mark your own maths against the answers and solutions provided.
Oh!!!! The horrors and absolute pain of snailing my way through my horrendous mess of numbers and alphabets, checking the answers against the mark sheet! It is like, the numbers and the letters all swim before my eyes, my eyes cross and my brain seem to turn into absolute mush.
I think I grumbled about that some time ago:
Yes. Maths is not just non-nutritional to me. It is at wars with my inner system, it slows down my metabolism and it puts my brain into a semi-comatose state whereby half my brain cells either frazzle out or stop functioning.
It is carcinogenic, its painful, it is bad for my health and for my skin. ARGHHH!
Imagine waking up to Maths grinning at you like “DO ME!”, and going to sleep knowing full well that the next day you have to do more of it.
My liver hurts just from thinking about it. RAWR