...if I fail this Neuroscience class. It's not the end of the world if I don't graduate and have to take a summer class. I'll be fine, really. Truly, just great. Fine.
That' not to say I'm quitting. I've spent 14 hours in the past 24 hours studying. That's more hours than I've studied the past four years. And with a little less than 36 hours left, I'm still going at it (after I sleep). I'm hating it, and thank all the lords, queens and kings I'm NOT a science major.
But I'm just bracing for the worst.
Because I'm furious. so angry, frustrated, annoyed, restless, impatient, over it, utterly pissed and losing my mind, and I'm to blame. I'm to blame for not having put more effort all semester, for having a such a low grade that need to be panicking, for not having taken more required courses earlier in college, for having studied abroad for elective courses, and the list could go on.
But screw college. Making us choose a major at eighteen years old? Making the number of units per semester so low, confining us to a system, setting a number and calling it success. I'd rather be taking this course for a letter grade soI could pass with a D and have it on my transcript rather than pass with a C and not have it shown. I DONT CARE. I can't, and thankfully, in this line of "profession" I'm heading towards, I really don't need to. I don't think my photography clients will care how I did on my Neuroscience final or my History of California class. I don't think the musicians I'll be working with will even ask about "how I did in college".
This is bullshit, and that's why I'm angry.
T-minus like 34 hours. May the odds be ever in my favor, because no matter how prepared I may think I am, I have full confidence that things never go according to plan.