A Brilliant Madness

I've been dreading my required algebra class all summer.  It was one of those things that would hit me like a mack truck at 2 in the morning- how in the world am I going to do MATH with a one month old and insane two and a half year old?  Within minutes I would be seething at... you guessed it- Joe.  No matter what my problem is, I can always trace it to Joe.  Don't feel bad for him.  He simply thrives on his position as my scapegoat, imagining himself as forging ahead against all odds with a quiet and humble dignity- a beacon for the down trodden and abused the world over.
As it turns out, however, I'm actually really liking algebra.  How I've changed from my sullen sixteen year old self, who sat in the very back of the math class drawing pictures on the desk between itching my head and falling asleep from the half dozen pills my friend and I would take before school (I still don't know what they were- any ideas?).  While my teacher in high school was a drab Polish woman who attempted to liven up the class by describing the wrong solutions to equations as 'no such animal', my teacher now is a computer, who cheers me on personally when my answers are correct, and who gently chides me when my answers are wrong.  Although sometimes I feel uncomfortably like a character in an H.E. Wells novel, for the most part I enjoy the cold objective personality of my new teacher.  I know that it's encouraging 'Fantastic!'s and 'Well Done"s do not stem from pity, and that its polite reprimands don't come out of a personal dislike of me.  It simply wants me to learn algebra.
And learning it I am.  In fact, I stayed up until 12:30 AM figuring out an algebra problem.  I finally forced myself to go to bed, veritably dragging myself away from the computer, and fell asleep feeling fulfilled and purposeful.  I felt a certain affinity to William Nash, the Nobel Prize winning mathematician whose journey to insanity and back was portrayed in the movie 'A Beautiful Mind'.  I mentioned this the next day to my brother.  Knowing my chameleon like personality, he suggested that I run away with this idea and take on the role of an eccentric mathematician; by scrawling algebraic equations onto place mats at restaurants and onto any glass surface (2x+3=27, etc.), by throwing furniture out the window,  by being rude and distracted with people and by slowly losing my mind.  I'm not sure if he has my best interests in mind, but this kind of life certainly sound much more interesting than mine.  Who wouldn't want an invisible Ed Harris showing up unexpectedly at their side, barking exciting orders at them?
Yes, anthropology has lost its thrill.  No more earth colored clothing, long brown hair and sensible shoes for me.  Who cares about different cultures when you can solve the mysteries of the universe with NUMBERS?  Next time you see me, expect my hair to be tousled, my outfit to be a random selection of ill fitting clothes, and don't be taken aback if I seem rude or distracted, or say insulting but on the mark things.  I am in the lonely world of numbers and equations, in which moments of brilliance are followed by an incomprehensible darkness.  A brilliant madness.
Well, at least until the end of the semester.