Accomplished today:
+Final three classes, including completion of anthro quiz.
+An unusually productive nap.
+An extended period of insanity.
+Completion (minus revision - 5 pages) of my anthro paper!
+Completion (minus revision & brief conclusion - 2 and a half additional pages) of my mythology paper!
+Sit-ups.
My conclusion is that I clearly ROCK.
Tomorrow, sleep sleep sleep, revise revise revise, attend construction tour/pizza party, revise revise revise, and enjoy fine holiday fun in the form of a lovely party.
I do hate my own attachment to that fascist element of the education system known as grades (particularly since I'm so vehemently and vocally anti-grades) but fuck it, it's there. Not to the same extent as some Smith students, but. There's always that one class every semester that has me worried. Generally these fears are proven groundless, but I don't appreciate the panic, the feeling that my worth is somehow defined by how I do in a class that I typically hated anyway. (This semester it's Joan Afferica. Her grading policies are evil anyway, her organization and objectives incredibly unclear all semester, and I learned absolutely nothing I took the class wanting to learn - so why do I care? But I do.) Fuck it, though. I mean really. I'll vent about it to my mother tomorrow and then I'm sure the worries will vanish - she is my eternal source of validation.
+Final three classes, including completion of anthro quiz.
+An unusually productive nap.
+An extended period of insanity.
+Completion (minus revision - 5 pages) of my anthro paper!
+Completion (minus revision & brief conclusion - 2 and a half additional pages) of my mythology paper!
+Sit-ups.
My conclusion is that I clearly ROCK.
Tomorrow, sleep sleep sleep, revise revise revise, attend construction tour/pizza party, revise revise revise, and enjoy fine holiday fun in the form of a lovely party.
I do hate my own attachment to that fascist element of the education system known as grades (particularly since I'm so vehemently and vocally anti-grades) but fuck it, it's there. Not to the same extent as some Smith students, but. There's always that one class every semester that has me worried. Generally these fears are proven groundless, but I don't appreciate the panic, the feeling that my worth is somehow defined by how I do in a class that I typically hated anyway. (This semester it's Joan Afferica. Her grading policies are evil anyway, her organization and objectives incredibly unclear all semester, and I learned absolutely nothing I took the class wanting to learn - so why do I care? But I do.) Fuck it, though. I mean really. I'll vent about it to my mother tomorrow and then I'm sure the worries will vanish - she is my eternal source of validation.
Current Mood: metal heart, you're not hiding
Current Music: metal heart, you're not worth a thing
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