The beginning of the semester always comes with the most confidence and the highest of expectations.
Syllabus week always comes with introductions.
The coursework hasn't hit you yet at the beginning so you decide to hit up the local watering holes.
You assure your parents when they call that you're not doing anything but studying because you remember how they raised you.
When you show up late but it has now been established as a frequent event and still don't understand the judgmental looks.
When you open your midterm and realize you only have one more chance to raise your grade from the ashes.
You assure your parents once again that you're focused on your studies in the library, but in reality you're helping yourself deal with the fact that you have a new obsession.
Final exam times roll around, and you suddenly realize that OITB was not the best binge watching choice the night before.
You decide to reach out to your professors to beg them to add just one point so you'll have that C instead of a C-, and they aren't being understanding.
You finally accept your grades and need to help yourself forget before returning home to questioning parents.
Even though the struggle was real this semester and it reflected in your grades, you hype yourself back up for the next semester because you know that nobody's perfect and you just gotta work it.
