Wow...not so bad.

I made a 68 on my first Italian Theater essay. Never in my life have I ever failed something like that. Big surprise, I didn't melt. I didn't blow up or get struck by lightening. The earth did not open up and swallow me whole. I'm not proud of myself but I am not ashamed either, which is surprising. I didn't try my hardest but I did try and when I got my paper back it looked like Prof. Grossvogel had a nosebleed in the middle of grading and my paper was the tissue he used to stop the flow. I'm surprised the paper was able to dry before he gave it back it was so ink soaked.

I made a 68 and then life moved on. I laughed. Sometimes you just have to laugh and let it go. I will correct my paper, turn it in, try to salvage what can be saved of my grade and then just get on with it. I'm just trying to make it until May. I'm crawling to the finish line and all of a sudden its like Michael Adams opened the UGA directory, blindly pointed to a name and said "Our lucky winner is Courtney Smith; everyone try to fuck with her every way they possibly can." This is ridiculous, so I laugh. Everyday. Keep on truckin' I guess. Almost there.

Somewhat Expected

I received 5 copies of the magazine I created over the summer today. As I expected, I was very disappointed. All that work and time and I see almost nothing of myself in it. This got me thinking. Is this what working is? Do we all just settle to do something that gives us a paycheck so we can live and have things like food, a house and, if we are lucky, spending money? Are we only ourselves in the time between when we have to slug through work? I really wanted to be excited and proud of what I had done but I was more like "ehhh..." I was more excited to open the package. I don't know what to think of this. Is everyone just going to join corporate misery everyday so they can afford their lifestyles and what they would really like to be doing? Does anyone even know what they would really like to do? God knows I dont.