Struggling with Stats

Getting home after a rather long day at work, K and I managed dinner on leftovers and I sat down with my homework for the next day’s class. Reading out each problem aloud, I lifted my head to see if K was listening and if he would respond. Given his love for anything related to numbers and logic, it was no surprise he listened and intently. As I converted the English to statistical notations, it was a delight to see him wince when I said something wrong. Or his delight when I struggled with and made the correct connections.

His voice booming when I seemed to lack basic comprehending skills, he looked like someone overwhelmed. Time flew as I scribbled on my notepad and he wrote key formulae for me to remember and use. Closing my notebook after I had scratched out the answers to the last question, I felt relief. Some things cannot be forced. It was seeing the pain and delight in his eyes that reinforced how removed I was from anything that involved thinking so much that it hurt my brain. Give me words and creative ideas any day I thought.

Getting ready for class, as I gather my books and notes, a smile plays on my lips as I remember rather fondly the one person who really invests his time and energy so I can do well in class. Every frustrated sigh and angry scribble in my notebook is proof of the love I am surrounded by. As I get ready for midterm exams next Tuesday, I can’t help but feel anxious about the struggle this weekend is going to be. And for one moment, I am happy that it is K who will struggle with me.