If My Filter Ever Malfunctions, Look Out

Recently, one of my roommates invited me to an event. "I'll see," i replied.
"You're very non-committal," she commented.
"Well, i'll be starting classes soon. I don't know what my schedule will look like."
"You won't have classes on Saturday."
"I might have homework."
"No one does homework on Saturdays! That's what Sundays are for!"

There are lots of very rational things i could have said, like this: "This isn't college anymore. This is grad school. I work from 9-5 every day, and my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays. I'll be getting out of those classes at ten and eight thirty, respectively. That leaves three weeknights a week for homework. Some of those nights i'll be doing fun things with you guys. Some of those nights i'll be going to bed early. Some nights i'll be doing fun things with my boyfriend. Some nights i'll be doing homework, but since these are graduate level assignments, there is a pretty decent chance that i won't be totally finished by Friday night every week. So we'll see if i'm finished on that weekend or not."

But what i really wanted to say was this: "You know what? I left public school in first grade because my math was at a third or fourth grade level, my computer was at a fifth or sixth grade level, and my verbal skills were too high to test. I finished high school in three years, and in four years i graduated magna cum laude with two degrees, while you just barely managed to scrape out one degree, with no honors, and had to do extra work during two different summers. You know what i did during the summer? Audited grad classes. For fun. I'd say it looks like my academic choices have been paying off pretty well so far, so if i feel like i should do homework on a Saturday, i should probably listen to my gut and not yours."

And what i actually said was this: "Well, i'll see what my schedule is like. I want to go, i just can't make any promises."

I love my apartment, i love my roommates, and i love my downstairs neighbors. But sometimes i feel like i've been reduced to the most simplistic interpretations of my least appealing traits. I'm not a caricature of studious nerd. There's more going on here than that. And if they don't stop reacting to me like i'm a cross between Hermione Granger and Mark Zuckerburg, i have a feeling that the filter between my brain and my mouth is simply going to explode. And on that day, you should either run and hide or grab some popcorn and find a good seat, depending on how into Schadenfreude you are.