Calculated Thoughts
Far From A Mathematical Genius
When Things Just Don’t Add Up
I sucked at math. Big time. Maybe it’s because my father was an engineer and was like a walking calculator. As a youngster, I decided to do whatever it took to keep up with him.
I developed my own secret method.
Since my brain wasn’t cooperating, I found a reliable built-in calculator of sorts. My fingers. I could count on my digits — literally! I assumed this technique was the answer to my mathematical problems. I remember bringing my first perfect test home and how proud my dad was.
But then single digits turned into double trouble and gasp — triple+ digits. Oh-oh! So much for my secret method.
Fractions were next level. I asked my dad why my answers looked weird when I added the numerators and denominators together. This is when things really got out of hand — so to speak.
My dad scrunched his face and tilted his head. He was either having a seizure or he thought I was an idiot. I could tell by his tsk tsk tsk that he was performing a quick calculation of just how far the apple could fall from the tree.
Needless to say, I quit math the minute I could, thinking a budding ballerina-like MOI wouldn’t have a use for integers anyway. But then when the ballerina thing fizzled out, I decided to take some college marketing courses. And all of a sudden, there was my old math nemesis — out to get me!
“Why do I need to take math to get a marketing certificate?” I protested.
The counsellor educated me. “Have you ever thought you’re going to need to substantiate your marketing claims with proof of sales, let alone managing budgets?” He kept talking but I didn’t hear anything past budgets. It all sounded so boring and useless.
And I pictured myself focused on just coming up with clever slogans. You know, like all the glamorous advertising executives did on the T.V. shows I watched back then. I thought two cups of heavy whipped cream would be all the number crunching I would need.
I couldn’t believe how difficult the mandatory college math course was! I wracked my brain and stayed behind every class to ask the professor questions about the lesson.
“What part didn’t you get?” She kindly inquired.
“The part after you said — good afternoon class.” I would shamefully admit.
She was patient. VERY patient. And I worked my ass off. I would spend practically every evening after work and my ENTIRE weekend solving math problems. I had a lot to make up for considering I dropped out of math after grade 9, and now I was doing college-level math!
One of my classmates burst my bubble though. She said, “Last night my daughter asked me for help with her high school math homework. It was pretty much identical to what we’re doing.”
Well then.
I’m pleased to say all my hard work paid off and I ended up getting 100% on my final exam. I hadn’t done that since I used my fingers to ace that first math test as a child! Dad was very proud, as it had been a long drought. Funny, he wasn’t nearly as proud when I aced my basket weaving 101 class or caught that house fly in mid-flight.
Too bad this was a highly specialized form of math and I actually never did use it in the real world. So unfortunately, I still suck at math. You can tell by the fact that I’m that asshole holding up the line at the cashier, using my fingers to calculate how to only get bills and no coins back. And I usually screw it up. Go figure!
Thanks for reading!
Thank you to my brilliant editor Kristine Laco
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