I want to remember this feeling.
Not that it's a good one, but it is important. I have never--almost never--felt so utterly disappointed in myself. Everything I worked so hard for this quarter, disposed of in an hour.
It's not that I didn't study or that it was unjustly difficult. But I didn't focus enough on the little things. I kept skimming past them, thinking, "She probably won't test us on this." Or, if I chose to review it, apparently I could not retain that information. BLAST.
So it's Friday morning and I just bombed my lit final. I've felt better about bombing things, because they were usually absurdly difficult and at least then it was justifiable. But this--ugh. If only I'd been more thorough. It was my best class, too. There it goes.
On another note, I will miss my 80 minute Herbst lectures and podcasts. Reverting back to 50 minute MMW lectures for next quarter? Blech. Not the professor, but the idea of attendance thrice a week again. Ah, well. Such is life.
Last final in 1.75 hours. I'd better hop to it.
It's not that I didn't study or that it was unjustly difficult. But I didn't focus enough on the little things. I kept skimming past them, thinking, "She probably won't test us on this." Or, if I chose to review it, apparently I could not retain that information. BLAST.
So it's Friday morning and I just bombed my lit final. I've felt better about bombing things, because they were usually absurdly difficult and at least then it was justifiable. But this--ugh. If only I'd been more thorough. It was my best class, too. There it goes.
On another note, I will miss my 80 minute Herbst lectures and podcasts. Reverting back to 50 minute MMW lectures for next quarter? Blech. Not the professor, but the idea of attendance thrice a week again. Ah, well. Such is life.
Last final in 1.75 hours. I'd better hop to it.
coming from a caroliine @ 09:34
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