Let me just start by saying this: words are not my friend.
As I was sitting in front of the computer getting ready to finish the essay that was due 6 hours ago, I had the unusual desire to give life to my nearly extinct blog and write a post once again. As you can tell from the infrequency of my postings, this doesn't happen very often, so I knew I needed to listen to the call. Whether this sudden urge came because I was subconsciously trying to delay the inevitable (finishing my nasty international finance research paper) or because I wanted to write down the swirling thoughts in my head as a means to understand them, I do not know.
But here I am.
Which brings me back to the distaste I have for words.
You see, I have something to say, I just don't know how to say it.
My mind is full of all of these abstract thoughts that want so desperately to be understood, but I just can't properly put them into words.
Do I sound emo yet?
Good.
Anyway, I think ultimately what I want to say is this: I'm failing school.
Not the I-got-one-B-and-now-my-life-is-ending kind of failing like usual, the real kind. As in, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to retake one of my classes next semester, and I may get a C for the first time in my life.
This does not happen to me. Ever.
My entire life I never really excelled in anything. I was an average dancer, an average violinist, and that one summer I took diving, I was an average diver.
But school was my thaaang.
I got straight A's in high school, and while I stressed myself out over it, it came pretty easily and didn't come at the expense of my social life.
I'd procrastinate just like everyone else, but I knew I'd get it done by the time it needed to be done. That's just how things worked. I was by no means smart, but I was good at school.
This is not the case anymore.
I got an F on a test this semester. An F! As in FAIL. The day I took that test I became nearly catatonic and saw no point in going on. Oh, you think I'm being dramatic? I'm not. I felt like I was completely and totally useless. Because of a test. Although to be fair, I did poorly on more than just that test, so it was the culmination of several terrible and soooo not me grades.
Why am I sharing this with you? Well actually, I really don't know. Sharing is not something I do (ask my mom, although I'm sure she's already told you).
But I feel like I'm finally coming to a certain understanding of life, and I want to declare it to the world.
The one lesson that I've learned through all of this, is this: School doesn't matter. GASP. Ok, it kind of matters. But doing poorly (very poorly) for one semester of my life really isn't the end of the world. Although it continually seems to feel that way. I truly think that the reason I'm doing so badly is because I need to learn this lesson. I need to learn that A's aren't more important than family, or friends, or the simple joy of life. And what I've been noticing lately is that school is sucking away my love for life. I feel like I'm always grumpy and irritated (again, just ask my mom). I don't want this.
I'm still struggling with the idea that I'm not little miss perfect grades anymore (even just typing that made my heart hurt), but it's OK. Really. Amy, it's ok! Just breathe....breeeeaaaathe......
Ok.
Whew.
I hope that revealing these secret little thoughts, albeit through my linguistic handicap, will allow me to accept my fate and move on as just an "average" student.
Because seriously, I'm pretty sick of feeling like an epic failure.
That is all.
(time to finish that evil paper.)
