Every time my History Professor hands out one of his nearly impossible reading quizzes, he kids that our quiz is a “Celebration of Knowledge.”  Such an idea is pleasant until you rack your mind aimlessly to recall the answers you end up concluding were not in the reading at all.

Coming this Monday, I’ll be taking my final for this professor’s class, and here it is—Saturday night—and I’m complaining to myself about having to study.   It’s not ideal; I probably wouldn’t have planned it; my friends are being Trekys at the movies, and here I am.  Yet, I ought to celebrate.

I know it’s an oxymoron.  I should celebrate something I ought to complain about?

The need to celebrate is valid because of my job title.
If written, here’s how it would read:
Learner, listens to researched and trained professors to expand knowledge of the areas of her choice.  Through testing professors encourage her to solidify concepts heard audibly.

Quite a hyperbole of a definition, yet if I could grasp the joy that comes with my duty as a college student, I’d see an immeasurable opportunity to soak up what can be learned.

Most likely I won’t be ecstatic for the next quiz or look forward to my exams; there’s not a party in sight.  However, a healthy gratitude and thanksgiving for knowledge should flow forth.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to prepare for my Celebration of Knowledge.