Career Journal: Entry #7: Rockin’ it (for the moment)

Career Journal: Entry #6: Rockin’ it (for the moment)

     I took my lecture exam last Wednesday and my lab exam last Friday. I had three emotional breakdowns in the course of that week. Wails like, “I can’t do this,” “This is too much for me to handle,” and “I wish I could die” may have been heard in the next town.

     My family and my boyfriend were really supportive and I survived the week. I walked out of the lecture exam knowing I missed two out of the thirty-five multiple choice and fill in the blank questions. One was missed due to the fact that I misread the question and one I flat out didn’t know. I got the first three letters right out of the word I made up, if that counts for anything (which it doesn’t). There was an essay as well, the topic listed as the last question on the exam, and I wasn’t sure how I did on that one, especially since my lecture instructor seems to be a very particular grader. The “post exam soap opera” took place outside afterwards, and I found myself standing among a group of girls discussing the questions they felt unsure about. After talking with them, I didn’t find myself feeling better, but rather, doubting my ability to perform in the class, and I announced on Facebook that I’m pretty sure I got a B.

     My lab exam on Friday didn’t leave me feeling much better afterwards. The girls in the post-exam discussion outside convinced me I’d missed three of the questions, which would’ve totaled to six points. I was disappointed because that was only three that I knew about. There could’ve been more.

     I emailed my instructor for my grades and then received both back this morning and was elated to find that I received a 99 on my lab exam and a 92 on my lecture exam (I missed two fill in the blank questions and got an arbitrary two points knocked off my essay for a grammar error and one place where I wasn’t specific enough about a connective tissue). When she calculated my grade, I currently have a 97% in the class.

     But here’s the crazy part: today my instructor passed around a sheet that had all of my lab section’s individual grades on it, identified with the last four digits of our student ID numbers, as well as her lab section’s grades, and I sat there in disbelief when I saw that nobody else in either section, about sixty people, had a 97% or above. I’m not sure I’ve ever been at the top of the class for any amount of time. For all I know I could tank on both of the next exams but I would know that for at least the first two exams, I was at the top of the class…It kind of pumped me up and encouraged me to study afterwards. “I can really do this,” were the words I kept saying in disbelief to myself. I even asked the instructor after class if I could see those papers one more time, convinced that maybe I’d misread them, but I didn’t. They were still the same. My student ID numbers with a 97 next to them.

     I have been staying at school almost all day every day for either studying or open lab. I sleep in in the mornings, go to either lecture or lab (depending on the day), and then attend open lab to study and quiz my friends (I have two gals I have made good friends with). When I come home, I exercise on my own since open lab times directly coincide with absolutely every martial arts class except for Thursday’s one, and then I have dinner, play some games on my iPod, and sleep. So, basically, all of my waking hours are spent studying except for my eating, showering, sleeping, one hour of exercise and one half hour of playing games. Oh, and maybe an hour walking about campus throughout the day.

     This has definitely forced me to switch some things up. For example, if I want to see my boyfriend, I have to forfeit that evening’s exercise and chill time to go to his house and be with him. Or maybe I go to his house for lunch one day.

     My weekends are filled with school too. I go to open lab all day on Saturday and on Sunday, it is church, work, and then studying with one of my lab friends at her house before I return home to my laundry.

     “Fourteen more weeks,” I keep telling myself. “Fourteen more hellish weeks.”

     I got assigned my dissection this week. My luck, too. I was in the library and one girl was saying how she got assigned the back of the arm for dissection next week.

      “Wow, that sucks,” I replied. “That’s on the first week of studying the muscles, the day before Valentine’s it is assigned, so you’ll probably have to dissect on Valentine’s, and you are only the third person to dissect. At least you’ll get to have the weekend to do it. I feel bad for the people who get assigned their dissections on Tuesday and have them due Thursday.”

     “When’s yours?” she asked me.

     “I haven’t looked at the list yet,” I replied.

     When I did, she was nearby and I told her I had the exact same dissection and dissection day. The irony of my life is so not amusing.

     Anyway, I shouldn’t even be up writing this. I should be sleeping right now, so, off to get some shut-eye for me.


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