Teacher's pet again

So, back to school once again. This year is going to be super difficult, As I'm about to do the finals for Bachelor degree. Finals from psychology and education are in February, until April 20th I have to hand in the thesis and in May / June I need to pass the finals from English and Social studies. Not to mention all the regular exams to be passed every half a year and small papers to be handed in all through the year. Also, I'm about to get married next September, if my S.O. doesn't kill me first for being uncontrollable, nervous, uncontrollably nervous, hysterical or else. Anyway, I like being back at school. I actually have more time than I had on summer "holiday". Well, my thesis supervisor actually thinks I have done nothing on holiday and he wonders why I haven't started with the thesis so far and he wants me to write a chapter in a week. I was a little annoyed. I mean, I had like two weeks off this summer and I spent half of it moving to a new apartment and un/packing the boxes and he tells me "you had all summer"?!

Never mind, I sometimes need to be pushed to do some extra work (or to do any work), so maybe I get on to it soon. But there are still things that really annoy me about school.

Teachers who break all the rules. Don't take me wrong, I love rebels. But the rules we are talking about are those concerning the speech and projects. You know, every year a teacher gives us a paper or essay or a presentation on certain topic, and every year he or she mentions these: Less is often more. Do not overload it with information you don't understand. Don't read it. Make it understandable for the audience. Make it interesting. Try not to be monotonous. Make contact with audience. ....
And every year, no, every semester, there are some teachers that break these rules and then there's one that breaks all of them. And this year, the winner is my teacher for The roots of knowledge and education and Cultural traditions of region, Mrs. Who-knows. The sad part is, that I believe she is very interested in the topic. Even enthusiastic. But it feels like hell, really. She seems fascinated by encyclopedias and dictionaries, she keeps asking questions (like four per minute) and not demanding or providing the answer for them... And her voice, oh my, her voice could put snakes to sleep.

Both of the subjects are voluntary (which actually means that I had to select a subject from certain field to have enough credits for the finals) so I have to attend them.

One more thing bothers me. That nothing changed in the attitude of students. The people are studying for three, ever more years and still none of them answers teacher's questions. There are literally four of us who do. Yeah, I am one of them and I fell like in primary school and I am teacher's pet again and it drives me mad. Look, I never volunteer. Ever. I'm a slacker. I don't do ANY extra work. I don't remind the teacher about the homework, presentation or test. No. But I hate the silence. I hate it when the teacher asks a question and nobody is answering it. Most of the time there are people in the class who actually know the answer and they never say it. And I feel really sorry for the teacher who sends the signals to the class, desperate for any reaction. So I answer. I never raise my hand (the only time I do that is when the topics for presentations or essays are given and I really want that one), I just raise my voice and answer the question. Look, I am not an idiot. And I like the fact that I know the answer. But you should see the look on the faces in the class. They see the smarty-pants, the nerd, the whatever. I don't care anymore, I like being me and my friends like me, so what. But it is not what I aimed for. When I went to University, I thought people would be more active. Especially when it comes to people who are studying to be teachers some day. Well, that is just something that bothers me every year. But it is your problem, not mine, that you never try to answer. You will never learn from your mistakes.

You know, there's this one thing I love about being a third year. It is not first year.
I am not wandering around the school, desperate to find the room number 314 where my next lecture is taking place. I don't need to ask strangers to show me the way and look at their all-knowing smile when they tell me the direction. I don't have to cry over my schedule (well I can, but I was the one who made it) where most of the lessons collide with each other.

And finally, a funny story. A new building has been joined with the old one during the holiday and so, the first day we were to be in room no. 340. And we knew there was no such thing in the building so it had to be in the new one. So we waited near the lecture room - which had no number on the door, but we supposed that was it(for the teacher had to unlock the door) and felt like freshmen year again.