80/20

The “80/20 life” sounds like a catchy name for a tv show. Yet the characters have been unannounced, so I’m going to pretend to be one for now.
They say that 80% of people use 20% of the features on things like electronics. In my life, I’d say the 20% I’ve focused on would be school. It doesn’t take up much of the pie graph that makes up my life, but I am content with that. School was always a priority, but never as imperative as health, family, or happiness.
A lenient focus on school stresses me out less. If I miss an assignment, I won’t panic. I’ll just jump back in the game with the next one. I dare not loose momentum because of one, simple missed assignment. It could break down a structure and obscure focus from other classes. Plus, there’s always the option of storytelling! Like conjuring something more plausible than “the dog ate my homework” (because that was so 1976).
School always seemed to me a gambling institution because there’s never a guarantee. But it was always necessary if you want to make it someplace sometime. It’s forced upon us by these hidden authoritative figures too afraid to teach us the skills themselves, so they expect us to be schooled in hopes that we’d be satisfactorily brainwashed to their standards. Like in “1984” by George Orwell, we’re the Winstons who get cleansed by O’Brien because our reasons weren’t reasonable to them. Because colorful ideas need to be black and white. Sure there are perks, like discovering the correct name for salt is “sodium chloride,” but I could’ve learned it somewhere else (ie. Watching Jimmy Neutron on Nickelodeon in high school).
The general reason for feeding schools with our money is in exchange for a degree after four years. But it’s a gamble. That degree is a ticket into the real world. It’s physical proof of thousands of dollars trickled through the administration, hours of sitting, sheets of paper with notes, and waning attention spans come senior year. Yet as the economy wavers and dupes us with its next forecast, that one degree won’t mean much unless you top it. Getting another one and another one means multiplying your time and money. All for a degree that has some chance of getting your foot through the door. It’s like a conspiracy between company and school to garner as much money they can. But with a monotonously proven result, a simple degree, that most of us end up with.
As people feverishly hover over their books, there’s always that opportunity that passes them because they were too devoted to school. A strong devotion can be fatal because you miss out on things. Rather than aiming to get a perfect score on your next test, wander around and buy some giant cookie to ease the tension before the test. Cookies always make people happy.
I’m not saying to give up on school wholeheartedly, but to give yourself some slack. There’s always a choice to develop without entirely sacrificing yourself. And good grades can be proven during chosen times of the year, not 24/7. Go home on the weekends and eat Lucky Charms with that Beauty and the Beast bowl too embarrassing to be brought to school. It’s a nostalgic feeling, versus the structured coldness at school, and it feels good.