*Special stream of consciousness edition* In the following post, I take you on the journey of what happens to a mind when it is bored to tears. Good luck.
The great thing about having a group of friends in which everyone is a different major is that you get to experience a little bit of everything. My Forensics Science major friend wants to work in the FBI. I get to pretend that I know important government secrets from the things she tells me like Elvis Presley is still alive and Stranger Things is actually a documentary. I get to volunteer at my Elementary Education major friend’s after-school program. And my Business Management major friend… Well I actually don’t understand anything she says about all that complicated financial and spread sheet stuff but I do get to hone my lying skills when I pretend like I do.
But my best friend is a Psychology major and I have noticed myself falling in to the dangerously annoying combination of trying to psychoanalyze people while actually knowing nothing legitimate about it. It’s probably not healthy to be talking about someone and find yourself imagining how they probably are that way because of how their parents said that one thing that one time when they were 13. And what is my support for these theories? Helping my roommate study flash cards for an entry level psych course. I know, everyone is going to want to hire me to sit on a couch and listen to them tell me about their feelings. I’m a total professional.
But even professionals always have room to grow so when my bff told me she had to attend an extra credit psych club meeting, I was willing to accompany her. We went back and forth for about three days whether I should actually go or not. We have this irrational kind of conversation about something or other at least once a week. Ashley: “I’ll go if you don’t wanna go alone.” Sarah: “Well I don’t wanna make you feel like you have to.” Ashley: “But I really don’t mind, do you not want me to go?” Sarah: “I’m fine either way.” Ashley: “So my presence would make no difference at all?” Sarah: “No, of course I’m always happier when you’re there.” Ashley: “Ok so you want me to go.” Sarah: “Only if you want to.” Ashley: “Nothing would make me happier. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of. It’s settled.” It’s honestly a wonder we get anything done when a decision about waking up 15 minutes earlier turns into a philosophical discussion about our relationship.
So I went to the psychology club. I was amused by the possibility that the guest speaker might ask how many present were psychology majors. *Everyone in room raises hand except that one weird girl with the Dr. Seuss coffee mug* Communications major represent! Although I’m probably not representing very well, typing on my phone for the whole 45 minutes. But the alternative of falling asleep in my coffee would look much worse, so it’s in everyone’s best interests.
So I didn’t listen at all but I’m not here to listen, I’m here for my friend. Besides, I prefer to do all my psychology learning from creative worksheets and funny textbook pictures that my roommate shows me. The thing about a diverse friend group is that you get to learn as they learn, but you only have to experience the interesting parts. So as I sit here, supposed to be learning for real, I take away two things: the dress that the presenter is wearing is very unflattering, and she was much too aggressive when one student had legitimate information that contradicted her. Overall, I am not impressed. I’m not calling her a quack or even saying that she isn’t knowledgeable, but she does definitely need to work on her presentation and communication skills. Oh wait, I did learn one other thing: I picked the right major.