So I finally graduated college (YES!), however, there was a little scare near the end there, which I left out when relaying all my hard work to my mother. Every semester, the Dean of Students office at the University of the Tundra (which, lo and behold, did eventually thaw) puts out warnings that if you misread the finals schedule/sleep through a final/ for some crazy reason miss a final, you will not be excused. This happens to about 10 ("otherwise intelligent") students every semester. What are the chances they could be me? Well, a normal person, very slim. Me, however, apparently high.
So finals week for me involved all night dates with Homer (the name of our library), and copious amounts of caffeine. I wrote 32 pages worth of papers in 5 days and was on a very strict schedule, which left Friday afternoon to study for my Medieval final which I thought was on Friday night. Upon sitting down and going online to recheck the room, I realize I ("otherwise intelligent") have misread the schedule and my final was RIGHT NOW. I hope in my car, drive like crazy, park in a handicap spot, am that crazy lady running through campus, run into the room crying my eyes out as everyone is finishing, sit down with a test, and realize I know nothing. I mean nothing. My head was so jammed packed with information from papers I had no idea when the Hundred Years War was. No idea what monastery the Rood is at. And anyways, time's up.
Enter nervous breakdown. I'm going to fail. I'm not going to graduate. Total freakout. There's nothing I can do but wait.
Fast forward 3 days: I got a B in the class. There is NO WAY I got a B in that class. I feel as though I should begin worshipping the Pagan Medieval gods. I feel as though I should go to graduate school and write my dissertation on Beowulf. I feel as though I owe my professor sexual favors (ok, not really).
So moral of the story, sometimes shit happens. To me, shit happens a lot. But sometimes the world has a way of working itself out. I guess I was meant to be a college graduate. :)
