Never Say Never

I am a packrat.

It takes years before I can bear to start getting rid of old school notes and assignments. Even then, it's more of a tame weeding than a complete purge.

Last year, after graduation and moving back to San Diego, I sat on my floor organizing the dead tree evidence of my Westmont academic life.

I came across my papers for Mechanics: my very last (and most painful) physics class covering Statics and Dynamics.

With a flourish, I threw the entire lot into the recycling bin.

"I'm NEVER going to need THAT again!" I crowed with delight.

Never say never.

Because I'm about to walk into the first class session of Dynamics at SDSU.

It's an entire semester full of all the material from the second half of Westmont's Mechanics class.

i.e. The hardest parts of the class.
i.e. The part that builds on the hard first section of the Westmont class for which I have no useful memories NOR any useful notes from which to jog my memory.

I threw those notes away because for all the uncertainty of my future, it was obvious to me that I would never set foot in mechanics related class again.

You think you know where life is going to take you?

Think again.