I've figured something out?

After taking a couple of tylenol and washing them down with a chocolate-y coffee, I figured I would be ready for the whole homework thing.
In case anyone wasn't aware: school blows.
Okay, so I know I'm in first year courses and I'm 25 and I know that it's hard to find interesting courses to take when you're doing a university transfer program, but couldn't my profs give one shit about what they're talking about? One them in particular is getting us to read a chapter of a textbook and go over the definitions of the bold-faced words in the following class (uhhh, and it's a second year English course). Either she is a complete and total dingbat or she thinks we're a bunch of fucking morons.
Thanks for the tuition bill and a waste of time, Langara.

Of course, there is a possibility that I've lost my smarts over the past seven years, have become increasingly cynical and I simply can't find anything that's interesting whatsoever. I may just belong to the zombified masses, in a strange parade of people eating potato chips, guffaw-ing at Family Guy and giving up on what their dreams ever were.
I just really don't want that.

So basically I've come to question my decisions. I assumed that taking a semester enrolled in courses that seemed interesting may revive my interests, my care for the world, my joie de vivre, whatever...and I feel like it may be working - just in an opposite sort of way.
I've realized that I'd rather just take some fucking books out of the library and play out scenarios in my head so the information takes. I'd rather be travelling and wandering around new neighbourhoods, talking to new people, trying new things (without a huge commitment and a $5000/semester bill) and picking up new novels that will remind me of what I love. Who needs a career, and what is a career these days anyway? Academia is the alternative, dark pit of snotty intellectual despair way of living. Obviously I'll do it if I must (I'm going to finish the semester, because it's either this or going back to serving at this point), like say if I really do need a degree in something to get some job title I want or a salary that is necessary (kids...house...etc)....but for some reason I just don't see that happening for quite a while (if ever).
I think that I'm realizing that I am willing to take that long, hard quest for happiness that will bring the dark moments as I go along.

What I'm trying to tell you is, I'm going to bake pies for a living.