Okay. If Cas can get blown up a thousand and one times, I can deal with this final.
If Dean came come out of Hell with his marbles mostly intact, I can deal with whatever this final throws at me and whatever grade I get on it.
If they can figure out a way to defeat Lucifer, I can figure out what my professor wants of me oh my god lady what do you WANT!?
I just gotta calm down and channel my inner Cas XP.
now I’m thinking about how nice it’d be to be a vessel, have a super-smart angel take my final and be done with it. I would rather be chained to a comet then have to go through this.
To be fair, like half the students have been AWOL, three remaining that I know of are failing (they can get perfect on the final and still have to retake it), and I’ve been pulling high B’s and A’s so far. I have kept up with the reading and reviewed notes, textbook, and texts. I have analyzed and annotated the text until it literally bleeds red in three different schools of lit crit. This is an Honors English class and the most humanities my brain gets is world systems history and art history. Because there be data, systems, and facts to base my shit off, yo. I’m not saying I’m the best (I can count at least three others who are doing way better than me, I’m sure there’s more - I’m pretty sure I’m at the bottom of those who have a prayer of passing), but I’m saying I’m not totally fucked. I’m a science major, yo, my brain ain’t down with this shiz. Kudos to those who can sit there and analyze a novel to death. I can’t. Without facts, data and systems to form some kind of parameter my brain starts this weird positive-feedback loop and I’m pretty sure I start hallucinating symbols, motifs, androcentricism, shadows and metaphors that aren’t there.
Then I don’t know when to stop and get overwhelmed and then try to communicate the weird web of bullshit in my brain and fail miserably at it. This may sound terrible but this is honestly the first class I’ve taken that I was really, truly, miserably bad at. Environmental science which integrate all sorts of ridiculous shit like geology, chemistry, meteorology, evolutionary biology, toxicology and sociology with ridiculous exams that average 65%? Hit 90’s. Analyze basic shit like Hemingway, Chopin and Walker? Excuse me I think I’m going to puke.
The sad thing is, usually I can psyche myself up for a final pretty easily because I just remind myself: Hey, I’m taking this class to transfer and become a doctor
sexy. Bam. Done.
Except I hate this class to such an extent that I really couldn’t be fucked to tie my ~dreams~ to it. I don’t hate the subject. I don’t even hate my professor, she’s pretty cool. I don’t hate the existence of English as a school of study. I appreciate all it has done for the world. I admit that I have become a better writer under her guidance. I just hate me being in this class. So I’m using Supernatural. COPING MECHANISMS FUCK YEAH.
Channeling my inner Cas now. I will fucking smite this final!
Or get blown to bits and ~magically revive~.
Perhaps stoically, perhaps fruitloopy, perhaps megalomaniacal, but either way, I will magically revive.
Also, channeling my inner Cas has made me really need a hug now. :(
Or maybe I’ll channel my inner Balthazar, my final will become my very own Celine Dion and I’ll just smite myself.
…I wish I could smite things. Let’s be honest. Outta all of this I’m Chuck pre-God revelation. Without alcohol.
- December 13 2012 | - Read More →