Epistemological disappointment

I liked school. I was not the most diligent of students for the same reason I liked it: I just liked learning stuff. Not necessarily the stuff I was expected to learn, although I learned that too. I didn't care about the academics of it, the grades. I loved reading about things, I loved understanding things and more than anything I loved not understanding things. I loved talking to my teachers, who wished I was a better student (that I was "más aplicada"), and having them praise my questions and direct me to other things they thought I would like learning and were out of scope for the class. Some other kids didn't like school so much, for one or many silly or very valid reasons. And if I had to work together with them, on a presentation or some kind of research project, for example, what invariably happened was that they wanted to half-ass it and think about it as little as possible. I am not against half-assing school projects. I think it's fine, and in fact I was very good at that…