I left home at 7:30 am to attend my 8:00 class. It was a lab so we are required to wear closed toe shoes and long pants to protect our legs and feet from glass, chemicals, etc. Class went fine, even got some homework out of the way.
Right after class I studied for two more hours for my OCHM test, grabbed an expensive and thoroughly disgusting bite to eat at the Student Union and proceeded to OCHM. I took the test which was massively difficult and stressful, but I don't think I failed.
Immediately following I went to Calculus II to get my test and attend lecture. This is where things took a nose dive. My teacher made us aware that anyone getting a D or lower on the test should drop the class immediately since there would be zero chance of getting a passing grade by the end of the semester. I, sadly, was in the bracket.
BUT...there was still hope. If enough people in the class did badly than maybe he would curve the grades. HE DOESN'T CURVE...EVER!
I felt like someone punched me in the gut. I had just gotten past the point of suicide and convinced myself that things were going to be okay. I guess they aren't. Regardless of the fact that I know the material and would probably be fine to continue the class, the grade was so bad that there was no chance of recovery. I was forced to drop the class since today is the drop deadline and I will have to retake the class next semester. What a hit to my self esteem and my long term goals! This sets me back considerably.
So I proceeded, defeated and stunned, to my bicycle to ride home and drown my sorrows in "no-bake" cookies when I noticed that I had a flat tire. So...I proceeded yet again, defeated, stunned, and a tad bit ticked, to walk my bicycle home in the heat, wearing jeans and boots, with 25 pounds (no joke) of chemistry books on my back. Luckily Matthew was able to pick me and Allura up about half way home.
Now I sit here, stinky and exhausted, hoping that some of this will appear funny to me tomorrow. Here's to hoping!