I do not have the finest of GPAs. It's not terrible, as in it's not "academic probation," and it's improving, but it's not the finest of GPAs. Its plumage is far from resplendent. But, again, it is improving. I got an A. I like As. Too bad I only get As in classes that are stupid and easy. Oh well. Hopefully next semester my classes will be such that I can get As (or B+s or something) without wanting to kill myself. I'm not sure, though. Having that many math classes (i.e. three, two of which are supposed to be fairly difficult and one of which is supposed to include a lot of work despite being fairly easy) might b terribly terribly stressful and upsetting. But hopefully not! I should be able to get a pretty easy A in Intro to Education, and ballet couldn't possibly be too bad, right? I could finally have a GOOD semester. Maybe.
I hate people who refuse to accept that if you don't know what you're doing then you don't deserve credit for it.
I'm so happy. I'm so happy. In all likelihood, I will not fail this class. I will not fail. I would like to get a 60% on the final. Then I could have a 60% in the class. In this class, a 50% is a failing grade. I love this man. This man is my favorite man. Is 60% possible? I do not know if 60% is possible. I do not know 60% of the material. Regardless, I'm so happy. I say this with a straight face, but it is true. I am so happy. Now I can truly say that I have loved this man like Mary loved Joseph: a little bit at first, not at all as trouble arrives, and then nigh-infinitely once it became apparent that he will not have me stoned to death for being what amounts to an adulteress. Adultery is a metaphor for not understanding electricity, by the way. In case that wasn't clear. And being stoned to death is a metaphor for taking this class. Because the class is so painful. In case that wasn't clear.
I'm so happy.
ETA: Giving birth to Jesus is a metaphor for taking this final. Just for the record. IN A STABLE. IN THE COLD. WITH LOTS OF PAIN.
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