Power Tripping

So, it’s now the House Sale project, that little thing worth 1/3 of my diploma mark.

Joy oh joy.

Christeby’s Institute is now hosting a faux auction run by the students who have been training all year to become specialists in a particular subject. (Bullshitting maybe?)

I’m in the British Paintings department, I enjoy the art enough, the company, however, may leave something to be desired. Most of my day I’m sat next to The Voice. It’s clear to everyone near us that we’re making an effort to be civil and helpful towards one another, - well, I am.

I’ll return to this in a moment.

In the meantime I’m going to share an anecdote from my youth that may help explain my work ethic…don’t worry, I’ll manage to do this in the space of two sentences:

a-hem

When I was 11 my teacher announced I never stopped to smell the roses and therefore received the ‘Most Conscientious Award’. I have since reconsidered my stance on smelling the roses and I decided that I like that activity in moderation (As most actions are best done in moderation – even eating chocolate).

Now, with my work ethic more or less there for all to see, and no, I am not a lazy person, I just know that if you work hard you need to even it out, and now I will proceed with this entry.

So, coming to the Institute today was, as it was yesterday and the day before, a somewhat intimidating experience, at least at my table. Projects are being micro-managed by the department director.

Who is in fact, another ordinary non-super power student.

Now, I’m all for respecting authority when it actually exists and is earned, but this lass is full-on.

And fucking condescending. I’ve been talked down to more in the past three days than I have in the past three years.

Case in point:

My first reaction to the chaos of the room was to run. I acted on that and went to the library to gather books on artists who could have painted my paintings.

Note: not slacking.

As I bumbled my way out of said library I met my Departmental Director and had this melodious phrase grace my ears, ‘Oh hey, I was looking for you cuz I knew you’d come in and I saw your stuff so I decided to think the better of you and check the library first and wow, here you are!’

a) A) Yep! Here I am! Look at the books I found.

b) B) Haha! Well, you know, I do work when you’re not watching…I’m not a total slacker.

c) C) * glare * Speak when spoken to.

d) D) Fuck off and leave me the hell alone. My nerves are already raw from you and we still have 4 ½ weeks left together on this project.

I wanted to say d) but restrained myself to b). Defensive is better than outright aggressive. God help me if I’m working with her in 7 years.

As far how things are going with The Voice, we are being civil. However, it would seem my efforts to be a team player are being omitted. I’ve found many of her works when hunting down mine. I pass these things off to her, I mean, no skin off my nose and it fosters sharing within the group…until the group micro-management update with round table discussion.

‘Yea, and like this one is a Van Dyck copy and you can tell because of x, y and z. And, yea, that’s like all the ones I have.’

And there we had it, she’d omitted the three I’d found for her.

So much for my credit within the group and offering to help her ever again. My goddamned olive branch was just torched.