Four days until the due date of my last assignment for thee months and I am definitely feeling the pressure. This has been hands-down the hardest study period so far. I’ve wanted to quit so many times but haven’t.
And now I’m running out of time and I want to do well but there are only so many hours in the day. My brain has begun to ask in a fairly monotonous and terrifyingly regular voice – HOW are you going to get this done? There is so much to do. And I think to my brain – do you think I don’t know this? I know what you know! Just shut the fuck up and stop freaking me out.
But it doesn’t and so we continue this crazy dance with me getting ever more panicked as each hour goes past and I have to do things like work… and sleep. Things that are grossly inconveniencing at a time like this. And you think it helps to say “only X amount of days left” but I still have to get through those days and then live with whatever grade I come up with at the end of it.
I am competitive. I like to do well. I have high standards that’ve already been sorely shaken this study period. A pass is not something that pleases me. I like things like distinctions and high distinctions. They sound pretty and smart and, dammit, I have become accustomed to their sweet, glossy shine. One can hold them up to the light and watch them glimmer and be PROUD. I don’t want to do that with a pass. I want to hide it away like a dirty, little secret although, yes I know, it’s still a pass and it will get me my degree nonetheless. But fuck that, a girl’s got to have ambitions and drive, right? I don’t want to just scrape by.
Ah well. For someone grumbling about not having enough time, I’ve managed to find some to write on here. So, rather than continuing my whining, I’m going to get the fuck off and go to bed so I can get more of this end-of-days-shit done tomorrow… and the next day… and the next day… and then next day and then DONE. I would say I can taste the freedom but all I can taste right now is panic. In case you’re wondering, it tastes like crap.