He turned away, disheartened, realizing he’d never get to show anyone his write-up on the office’s “noble houses.”
Kids, you have to make your own fun. Or at the very least your own motivational system. My full-time job lately has been studying the hard sciences (most notably this week for midterms in Physics and Calculus). Now I think we all know by this point that I’m a big old nerd, but even for my people, that body of knowledge has a tendency to get fairly dense. And I’m not about density as it pertains to the mechanics of buoyancy. I digress. My point is, it’d be tough if I focused on it for solely what it is: learning a lot of facts, applying them to problems, taking tests composed of these problems.
Typically my self-illuminated motivations are fairly grounded in the real world, i.e. my future career in medicine that his curriculum is supposed to be ensuring. That goes a long way. Lately it’s been even more accessible, since I’m doing weekly shadowing with doctors. I’m excited for the point where it’s not just about where a charged particle ends up after passing through a magnetic field. Sometimes in the face of science, though, even job prospects are not enough.
Sometimes I have to think about Sherlock Holmes.
Go back and look into those stories again. Even in the filmic incarnations, almost every case is solved by one thing: Holme’s knowledge of chemistry. Do I see myself setting up shop in the UK as a private investigator and wearing a deerstalker? Not likely. Is thinking about doing so going to get me through memorizing oodles of organic compounds? You’d better believe it.
At least it’s less farfetched than chainmail in a cubicle.
Or is it?