The title of this post consists of all my feelings towards school and reading at the moment. I feel like a terrible ungrateful person when I say I don’t feel like I am learning anything, that I hate all this pointless reading, that I hate being talked at for hours at a time, that I want to do something with the things that get read (not just be tested on it…but maybe, like, talk about it?) Quantity over quality does not make for a happy Omri. I could read this on my own if I so desired. And the most ironic thing, is that the stuff I want to read and find interesting, I barely even look at because of lack of time or concentration. Or I am just to brain dead by then.
My rant is being triggered by the most boring reading of my life. 150 pages about british imperialism in india and how that influenced the large famines. it sounds like it could be up my alley, but i hate it. i hate history. i don’t understand it. it makes no sense. why did all this stuff happen? oh yeah, some dumb guy wanted money and power. over and over and over and over. and obviously it keeps happening, one would think someone somewhere along the lines learned something.
After reading to much for anyones own good, i ventured up to north Berkeley for a bit to poke around. wandered into the cheeseboard collective which you could smell from a mile away. it smelled…like cheese. and then also into a butcher shop, which was quite entertaining when I told them I was a vegetarian. But I was curious to see, and I actually support the ideals behind their shop. meat cut, then and there, what the customer needs and wants. all sources from pasture raised animals within 150 miles.
earlier this morning I took some pizza dough out of the freezer, which I had made from scratch some weeks back. I decided to roll out strips into pretzels and enjoy warm, chewy goodness right out of the oven.