Anatomy

I'm no genius. When I study hard, I get satisfactory grades; when I study harder, I get them good; when I really put my heart into it, that's the only time I get a 1.0 (that is if the Professor is not what they usually call "darts").
The first semester of second year was my "arriba" year as what my bloc mates call it. Not to brag, my professor in Bio22 had a hard time "curving" the grade because of me. To no longer elaborate, it was the time of my life. Getting the most desired grade in a semi-major subject really meant something and most especially, it boosted my ego (academically speaking). So there I was, confident that I'd do well in my Anatomy major the next semester all because it was somehow similar to the topics covered in Bio22. BUT I WAS WRONG. Anatomy killed me. It was suicide. It was the one and only subject that made me cry for the entire 15 years of my academic life! I guess the reason why (which I totally regret) that I wasn't able to give my best in it was the fact that I failed the first exam which was on the very first school day after Christmas vacation. So what the hell? Too much confidence took its toll on me when I studied for an exam of extremely thick handouts just two days before the big day. I was so stupid not to estimate how long it was and crammed it until I was on my bus ride to manila (with a small flashlight at hand). First suicide. Next suicide was the report about Acoustics that wasn't anatomy at all. It was goddamn Physics! Physics of Sound! Lucky girl. It was freakingly hard to understand - what more to teach! Vowels and consonants, wuuh?! I thought they were just letters in preschool. I WAS VERY VERY WRONG. SECOND SUICIDE. The night before the report, I was 2 days deprived of sleep because of other requirements. To add more thrill, I had an anxiety-palpitation attack at 3am when I wasn't even 50% done reading and I haven't even typed a single letter on my PPT presentation. I woke up at 7am typing none sense just to have a PPT at the least. I know I'm gonna be dead. Professor = perfectionist terror. How's that for an addition. THIRD SUICIDE = lab exam. I did - I really really did - studied for it. Read and read and read and studied the atlas. But I don't know what happened. Mental block? Yeah. That. That freaking MENTAL BLOCK! Why was there even such a thing as Mental block! Faggot. And the pictures used weren't the ones in any of my references! Okay. Move on. Fourth suicide = FINALS. 30% of the grade on the line, hard bound Siekel book cover to cover plus emryology on the side. FUUUU. I only had the weekend then to study. Two days. But guess what I did on one of those days? I attended my brother's graduation in Ateneo and I was there the whole day from 11am to 10pm. Well, it was worth it nevertheless, Family bonding and all that crap (and ehem. sight-seeing of oh-my-golly-wow cute boysss. hihihih)So now that the grades aren't still out, there's still a steel knife in my windpipe anxiously awaiting for our professor to send those goddamn grades to our mails. I hope tables would turn upon receiving it... Oh God, let a miracle happen and make my grade higher than 2.0. Pleaaaaase...

Mcminn, Siekel, and Zemlin; as much as I want to miss you, i'd rather not. Because you have left bitter memories and not joyful ones that I ought not to remember AT ALL. I'm so sorry. But all of you have been very dependable friends nonetheless. Without you guys, I'd fail even more.. or die again on my nth suicide. Okay, I don't want to be sentimental here. I'm just so anxious for those grades. OH TOMORROW WILL BE THE DAY. FRIDAY FRIDAY GOTTA GET MY GRADES ON A FRIDAY. NOT FUN FUN FUN FUN /wrist

Wednesday, April 6, 2011 @ 5:45 AM / 0 daisies

Keeping the faith

Anatomy

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