Math. I hate math. I mean, I really fucken hate math. And I realize how juvenile that sounds.
However, in order to graduate, I must take a certain math class. Which I can't get into, because, well, I can't math. According to the placement test, I need to take four classes just to learn enough to get into the class I need. In the words of one Sweet Brown, "Ain't nobody got time fo' dat!"
My school - which is happy to charge me for pre-credit classes - told me that I could not receive math tutoring if I was not enrolled in a math class. And so, a very kind (and brilliant and patient) coworker has been helping me learn math from the proverbial ground up. Seriously, we started with the order of operations - and if one more person sings to me about their dear aunt Sally I will lose my shit. Order of operations, combining like terms, I honestly didn't remember any of it. So she has patiently walked me through it and encouraged me and tried to keep me from feeling stupid. Let's face it, you can't help but feel stupid when you can't do 6th grade math. I feel like my math incompetence is an unfair thing to put on a coworker though. There's so much I have to learn, and so little time to do it in.
Today I appealed to the head of the math center at school, and he was kind enough to give me his approval to get math help for the placement test, so long as I came in with work and questions ready to go. Another kind coworker* donated her College Algebra book to me, and I have a million worksheets printed and ready to go. And so, this week I will embark on a new journey, tentatively called Beg for Help and Hope to Place Higher.