I know, I know, I was going to do a whole 600- posts how far we’ve come my growth let me you show you it, but…um…I’m really tired.
After six exams and two papers in the last week, I’m kind of at the end of my rope. Exam #5 this morning went well, except that I could have written a better one. Like not a better answer, but a better exam. It completely ignored the entire American Revolution/War with the Colonies (pick a side, any side), two of the essays were about the EXACT SAME THING, and the entire contribution to Napoleon? Was one stinking battle hidden in side a larger essay question. Poor form. But I knew everything (well, okay, except for the part that said, “And what would Cannadine have to add to this? Sue me, I didn’t read all four hundred pages. Pssh.), so I was kind of just spewing hopefully not-random tidbits for 75 minutes.
Because here’s the thing- there’s bonus points available. So you can never really do well enough, because that extra percentage of population increase? Could totally get you more points! This is like FREAKING HELL for someone
crazy conscientious like me.
So at 9:14 I was still writing about how much of the world’s industry Britain controlled in 1850 (40%, in case you were wondering.)
And then my hand got really stiff and I could barely get my ring off.
Exam #6? Well, after the 75 minute marathon essay session, I didn’t really care. And I knew most of it, so I’m just ignoring it and praying for a curve. Because if I fail? Work is going to be really awkward. “Hi. I’m the girl you failed. Prepare to die.”
I just got home from work where people yelled at me because they refused to believe that the short story by Truman Capote was the book that inspired Breakfast at Tiffany’s (YES IT WAS I’VE READ IT AND THERE IS LOTS OF SEX AND PERHAPS YOU SHOULDN’T BE GIVING IT TO YOUR TEN-YEAR-OLD, BITCH!!! *ahem*), and called me to ask me what 25% off of a $19 CD would be.
Yes. I received a phone call, looking for math help.
Now I’m going to watch TV and go to bed and then tomorrow I am going to force myself to find something halfway decent and pretty to wear to Easter and Colleen’s graduation (my lack of self-esteem!!! Let me show you it!!!) before all the things with anything resembling a sleeve is gone.
Vive la spring break.