I remember what sunlight looks like…

I’ve been a night owl since… since forever, I think. I’ve had plenty of “days” when I’ve been up to watch the sunrise, then slept until the wee hours of the afternoon. I have no problems functioning during that time. Hell, I prefer it. (Or maybe I just don’t like waking up early, I’m not sure.)

Apparently, being a night owl has its downsides as well (aside from sleeping until the wee hours of the afternoon). I bought the online version of our Economics textbook and I was reading it just now, trying to cram a whole bunch of knowledge into my head for our upcoming final exam on Monday. I made it through fixed, variable and sunk costs and clicked the button to turn the page. Instead of the next section, I was greeted with this message:

Temporarily Unavailable for Maintenance
While Gale products are regularly available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, a high quality product experience requires routine maintenance.

Which means they’re not available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. So now I’m stuck trying to find something else to study, hoping that I’ll be able to access the textbook again within the next, oh, I don’t know, sometime before the sun comes up to say “Hi”.

(As a side note, shouldn’t that notice read “Temporarily Unavailable Due to Maintenance”? The way it’s written, they can’t perform maintenance on the website right now, in which case I’m getting doubly screwed.)

Demand relief and it apparently doesn’t matter

I’m in class right now and we’re talking about the results of the midterm. I’d like everyone to take into account the fact that most of the people here are working adults trying to earn a graduate degree. They’re smart people. It’s an important point because the professor was… displeased with the results. It was a 60 point test and the mean was 42.4. The average score was 70%. That begs the question of whether that result is the fault of the students or the instructor.

I’m leaning toward the latter for a handful of reasons. For example, Question 5 was worth six points: “List some factors that determine the size of a business firm.” I listed seven different reasons. He did not mark any of them wrong, but he still gave me five points out of six.

But the worst reason is that the midterm followed his teaching methods. It was a test on Chapters 1-8. That was stated explicitly in the syllabus: “Mid-term examination in class, Ch. 1 – 8”. Now scroll back to last week’s entry. He was teaching us information from Chapter 15 in our third class; Question 3 was asking for information from Chapter 15. I didn’t focus on my notes from class—I studied the information we were supposed to learn from the text. Thus, more points lost.

(In case you’re wondering, I asked him outright during the review where that information was in Chapters 1-8 because I didn’t remember reading it in the text. He told me I should have known what we talked about in class. “So you tested us on something that wasn’t in Chapters 1 through 8?” Yep, he did.)

I’ve heard rumors floating around about students talking to the administration about this professor. Before now, I was kind of indifferent—he’s not very good at teaching the material, but I was managing okay. Now that it may have had a fairly significant impact on my grade, that discussion pales in comparison to a renewed urge to indulge in an ass-kicking. I’m pretty sure he won’t talk about it in class and I doubt it’s anywhere in the textbook, but it won’t be the first time I’ve improvised.

Demand relief and it shall be supplied

Maybe not for everyone, but certainly for our Economics group (“Team Awesome”) today. This last week has been a giant pile of suckage, but now a whole lot of weight has been lifted off our shoulders and we can coast through the rest of the course. Unless the prof decides to ignore the assigned curriculum again—he taught us material from Chapter 8 in our first class and Chapter 15 in the third.

The class started with our midterm exam. Up to this point, we’ve taken one online quiz that was open book and multiple choice. Today, we were told it was short answer and would be more analytical versus multiple choice-style questions. That’s all we knew. Consequently, most people in the class were ruing the experience. (As a side note, since it was short answer, we needed to write our answers with a pencil. I’m used to typing, so my hand was cramping and my handwriting kept getting worse over time.)

Many late hours, several nights with almost no sleep, multiple social obligations abandoned… very uncool. Right now, I think I’m functioning almost entirely because of a large-scale consumption of Mountain Dew. Doing the Dew, baby, yeah…

And did I mention that our group had to make our presentation today? We had an hour to finish the quiz—immediately after the time ran out, our group of six walked up to the front of the room and began presenting a slideshow to the class, discussing a case study that very few people had read. (Everyone is supposed to read every case before it’s presented, but given the midterm today… we asked how many people had read it and I could count the number of hands on two fingers. Three, if you include my middle finger for the professor.)

As part of our group project, of course, we had to write an 8-10 page paper. It ended up being more like 11 or 12, but I’d rather cover more material than accidentally miss something important and have the prof bitch about it later. That was due the day of the presentation, so in the course of a week, we wrote a paper and prepared a presentation along with studying for the midterm.

The best part is that while studying last night, I spent some time lying on my stomach to read, which led to me tweaking my back this afternoon. Thus, I had to stand in front of the room with my group, leaning against the whiteboard and having occasional back spasms. So maybe we’ve been supplied with some stress relief, but these muscle spasms… I don’t think they’ll care very much about my demands.

I’ve got plans on this day, this day, this day…

Fortunately, the Economics professor isn’t in our group, so there would be no benefit to indulging in any ass-kicking. Mind you, the temptation is still there.

There are six groups that have to make presentations to the class scattered throughout the next couple weeks. We’re Group #1, which means that this upcoming Monday, we have to:

  • Give our presentation
  • Submit an 8-10 page paper about it
  • Take the midterm exam

Translation: this week is going to be shitty. What provides with a few bonus points is that I have plans every single day until then.

Wednesday: haircut & dinner with friends I haven’t seen in months
Thursday: presentation by the CEO of Buffalo Wild Wings & trivia
Friday: dinner with Mensa Gen-X group (I could have played pool for a couple hours with a Meetup group, but I chose dinner with my peeps)
Saturday: meeting with family to celebrate a few birthdays, mine included (seeing a movie at the Science Museum, then dinner)
Sunday: book reading for a friend (this is my second chance—I missed the one three weeks earlier)

If you’ll flash back with me almost eight years ago, there were two “beauties” sitting on a bed, saying that one of the “geeks” only went out two times a month. That was me. Two nights every month and that was it. Now my schedule is getting filled up when I need it to be flexible.

Our group talked it over before class yesterday and decided that we’re going to meet on Thursday afternoon. If our discussion lasts so long that I have to miss the presentation, well, that’s one more thing I’ll probably blame on the professor. Plus I’ll miss eating wings from BWW afterward, which would doubly suck.

For the sake of our class presentation, we’ll meet again on Saturday—as long as I can get to the Science Museum on time, that’s not such a big deal. Still, the fact that I’m so busy after only going out two nights a month… I’m not sure if this is Alanis Morissette-esque irony or actual irony, but it’s still worth a few bonus points.

On a more positive note, the professor made a comment during class that I had to write down: Microeconomics is like sex. You have to do it slowly.

Naturally, my brain immediately took that in the wrong direction: Microeconomics is like sex. You have to do it slowly, but sometimes you come up with an answer too quickly and disappoint your professor.

Okay, seriously, how many people?

I’m kinda dreading my Economics class coming up later this evening. It’s not that the subject is boring (although it can be at times)—the problem is the instructor. I assume he has certain things he wants to discuss since there’s a slideshow covering that week’s reading assignment, but if that’s the case, I better keep doing the reading because we don’t come close to finishing the slideshow during class.

We started last week by discussing group projects. We’re all being put into groups of five or six people to write a paper and make a presentation to the class, which is no big deal. It became a big deal when the instructor asked the class, “What’s the optimal size of a group?” People were piping up with numbers like four and five; some developed a plan based on which jobs needed to be done for a project; I almost told him to use a dartboard.

No one was giving him the answer he wanted, so the discussion went on for fifteen minutes until he finally told us that you determine the optimal size of the group by weighing the costs of adding another person versus the benefits. When those numbers become equal, that’s the best size. In other words, he was asking for numbers, then gave us an economic concept as the answer.

Is five or six a good size for a group? Yes.

Is it the optimal size? Maybe.

Is there an objective way to measure costs and benefits to determine this? No.

Why didn’t he give us the answer he wanted about costs and benefits right away instead of wasting the first fifteen minutes of class last week? I don’t know, but if he was in my group, I think kicking his ass after that would have been a major benefit.