Last week, I returned from a four-day weekend. I had an amazing time relaxing with my family, catching up on my sleep, and eating my own weight in my mom’s cooking. One thing I didn’t spend a whole lot of time doing, however, was my homework. I got everything done that I needed to, however. At least I thought I did.
I walked into one of my classes on Thursday morning after staying up half the night writing a paper. My professor approached me at the beginning on the class and asked me if I was ready to give my presentation. You know how the expression is “my heart dropped?” If that were literally true, my heart would have dropped down out of my chest, through the floor, and down the Earth’s core. Actually, that may have been OK because my professor would have been so distracted by my heart falling out of my body that she didn’t press me anymore about my presentation.
If you hadn’t already guessed, I had not prepared my presentation. I had done literally every other thing due that week, except the one that was immediately due. Let’s all slow clap it out for me. As this was the very first time I had ever forgotten an assignment (yes, I’m a nerd) and I was running on four hours of sleep (as a self-respecting and self-indulgent college student, I try to get at least seven or eight), this was kind of a big deal for me. I looked at my professor, and just told her “no.” “Can you see me during office hours?” she asked. My brain was saying, Oh God. Oh no. That is honestly the last thing I want to do right now. However, my mouth said “Sure. Does 1:00 work for you?”
When I went to her office, I cried for the second time that day. As almost anyone who knows me will tell you, I’ve always taken my schoolwork very seriously, despite receiving no external pressure from my family about it. Especially now that I’m in college, I need to get good grades to continue receiving my scholarship funds. I’m also planning on going to med school, which means that my grades need to be on point. And as we know, in college, even if you get A’s on every assignment, if you get a bad grade on one your grade sinks like the "Titanic." Knowing I bombed this one assignment (even though it was worth less than three percent of my final grade) left me absolutely crushed.
Needless to say, it was not the best day. But you know what? It wasn’t the worse day ever. When I got home from my last class of the day, I came back to find a lovely note from one of my housemates posted beside my door. On my way through the Campus Center, I reunited with an old friend I hadn’t seen in years who I’ve been trying to set up a meeting with. When I went to dinner, the dining staff learned I was planning on spending the rest of the night studying, and insisted giving me a paper plate so I could grab some dessert to bring to the library along with my food. To paraphrase from one of my favorite children’s books, some days are like mine, even at Smith College. But it’s these days that make me feel all the more grateful for all that is good in my life.
