Stop Me.

I never thought of myself as dumb- well, occasionally yes but it’s nothing serious, nothing low-self esteem inducing kind of thing. I even had this weird feeling of greatness and that someday I could change the course of history. Not being stuck up or anything and having been a product of Special Education, I considered myself somewhat, well, special and behind my lanky frame lurks a certain genius waiting to be unleashed.

It wasn’t until my group and I mulled over our pathophysiology of Cystitis I grasped that other than my presence and the moral support that went along with it, I wasn’t of any intellectual help. I felt stupid, in plain English. There they were talking about phagocytosis and all I could think about was phago-what and whether they were talking Greek. Gee, where was I when everyone was taking anatomy and physiology?

It was a humbling experience. And a wake-up call for me. I realized I should cut off on my guilty pleasure of making fun of pretty people that had sniffed out too much glue as kids (read: empathy) because whether I like it or not, I’m one of them. So the next time I’m going to make an effort to stop those that are manifestly unfit from continuing their kind and join the Stop Stupid People cause on Facebook , I might as well think twice because stopping them also means stopping me. Stopping. Me.