Adult education = Mental illness

I am such an unhappy croc today. And believe me, I have no idea why!
There must be a serious hurricane occuring in my soul... How else do I explain my sombre mood?

Have you ever wondered if animals and plants go through a complex of emotions the way human beings do?
Have you ever sat down and asked yourself if cockroaches fall in love, or have their little hearts broken?
I know this is beyond insanity, but I have an extremely insatiable curiosity. There is so much I want to know, but life only gives me limited access. I want to get inside a frog's mind and feel how it really feels like to have that rough skin...:)
*Ok, enough of the weed-influenced talk*

Well, my intention was to whine seriously about adult education, but just like me, I kind of wandered off the topic. Forgive me!
Yeah, adult schooling...that's one torture I swore on my great grandmother's grave that I was never going to put myself through. But I'm afraid I broke the oath. And I'm sure my great nana is fuming underneath earth..

After a lot of soul-tickling compliments from a lot of people on my writing, I finally made a move to do something about it. To give it a bit of polish..
Big error!!!

I'm doing a degree in English Literature and loathing every ticking minute of it!
Frankly, when I enrolled, I thought it was going to be a smooth cruise in the snow. I thought all I would be required to do to get a distinction was to read a couple of yummy novels...
Little did I know I would come face to face with the ilks of Viktor Shklovsky, Roman jakobson and Boris Eichenbaum who made it their duty
to complicate every thing about Literature. What was the whole point of putting science into an unscientific subject? Was it to make education and life more miserable for us who suck at science? The reason why God created Literature in the first place was because he thought it would be easier for us souls who have no chance with science and its test tubes... But the Shklovskys challenged God and changed all that. Now Literature is more sick than science. More difficult. More challenging...
Ok, I'm disgressing again.
The truth is, I am choking on literary critism, all that formalism, realism, modernism and stuff... I'm so losing my mind! And if you add laundry, a sex-mad husband, a bunch of rascals and a hungry dog to all my literary misery, I'm left with nothing but insanity.

The reason I lose a million sleeps trying to figure out if animals and plants go through the hell human beings go through is because I strongly feel that human beings complicate so much that does not need to be complicated. A human brain is his downfall.
Think of the creation of a bullet..,

Well, I don't know...
But one thing for sure, adult education is not easy. Nor is it necessary when you have a bunch of brats to raise.

So do I quit?
Hell no!
I'm on a mission to prove Shklovsky wrong. I'm on a mission to put back the word "enjoyment" into Literature. Even at the risk of my last shred of sanity.

*Ok guys, I'm just letting you know in advance, the time I finish this degree is also the time I'm gonna get into a mental asylum. Feeding my mind with all those gigantic pages is very detrimental to my mental health*

AMEN !