Yesterday was the day of the oral exam that I have been dreading the very most: HISTORY.
It was a 24-hour preparation exam, which meant that we had 24 hours to read up on the historical period and material we were assigned to — (our teacher put a bunch of letter tiles from Scrabble in a little bag, and then we each drew a tile from the bag, and the letter on the tile was assigned to a particular historical period and each period came with some relevant historical sources and material that we had to analyze. Is it possible for a method that is meant to ensure that it is all completely fair and random to be completely idiotic and yet strangely logical at the same time?) — and while it’s nice to have 24 hours to prepare/read up/study + write a synopsis, it’s also a really nice and easy way to give yourself an ulcer. Holy shit, it’s stressful.
Anyway, I drew the tile with an ‘I’ on it, which, for some reason, was assigned to the Renaissance. And… I FUCKING LOVE THE RENAISSANCE. I have loved the Renaissance ever since I first learned about The Renaissance. The Renaissance and I are wicked tight, yo. So, needless to say, I was pretty ecstatic. HOWEVER. Guess who managed to get sick during those 24 hours? C’EST MOI! (I think this entry has a French theme). Also, as a bonus, I was completely sleep deprived from the night before, because I had been so afraid of drawing the Roman Empire or something, so, needless to say, I really wasn’t feeling my very best. I worked on my synopsis from 1pm to 1am, and then again from 9am to 11am the next day. My throat was killing me, my eyes were completely squary from reading so much while also spending a ridiculous amount of time looking at the computer, and to make matters worse, I had just gotten my rag. Sorry, if that is too graphic for you, but I am having a hard time setting for myself boundaries right now.
I didn’t think I was going to fail, but I was completely sure that I wasn’t going to do well; not with all the stuff I had working against me, like my throat and my uterus. Even when I was in the exam room, I just felt shitty and unprepared and like I couldn’t articulate myself correctly at all.
BUT. BUT, BUT, BUT, BUT.
I GOT AN A.
HOLY EFFING SHIT.
I can’t recall the last time I have felt that happy and pleased with myself. I had never expected to get an A in History, EVER. I have the worst memory, and before I started at this school I had like no historical perspective what so ever. LOOK AT ME NOW. I kept thanking the teachers, and they in return said, “No, you should thank yourself, it was very well deserved”, and I was like, “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT, I JUST CANT.BELIEVE.IT”. I have a feeling I made a fool of myself, but oh well, I got an A, I got an A, I GOT AN A. Can you tell that I am excited? Life is sure beautiful when you get an A in oral History.