"I just got crucified in my Intro Calc test. 40%- a new low in maths. It would have been 30% if you excluded my EPW, which is a maths assignment. I copied it off Stephen (top maths student) the morning before the test. Mr Gilies wrote "POOR" when I failed to answer a question worth 7/40 marks. I feel most terribly cut. I suppose I should pay attention in class rather than write things like this, but they’re just going through the test. I didn’t exactly have high expectations when I ent in. You see, rather than stressing, I knew I would do dismally because of my incredulous lack of preparation. Considering what I was aiming for, 40% was actually quite good. All the same, worst mark in class, and I’ve lost 3% of the final. On the plus side, I can still get 97% at the end of the year.
I hereby declare that maths is not my thing. Never really liked it, and it’s not worth liking. I’d rather dominate a world where I don’t need to find a=x(20-2)x. [By that I mean, there’s Mr Cicchini, who despises Maths and lives a perfectly happy life. In fact, most people do. I still don’t see why I need to get an A in maths to be accepted when people like Cicchini hardly ever use it for anything.]
Additionally, I had an English essay, regarding a short story we supposedly studied this year. I didn’t realise my faux pas (tactless mistake or blunder) until about 20 minutes to go. The story I was writing about, Instinct (coincidentally, the bedtime story that I authored) was not one we had studied. I may get 0 resultantly. Praying for mercy, I nevertheless was not performing at my peak. I wasn’t prepared, and after 4 and a half hours sleep, I wasn’t thinking all that straight. My Human Bio test was easy though, albeit I couldn’t focus at my prime.
All right. Maths test next week. Looks like I’ve got time to commence studying.
To top all this off, I didn’t make definite progress with Mrs Slawomirski.
‘Who told you to keep playing this?’ she asked. She had no idea. When I explained to her I spent my weekend practicing, she said,
‘I can see that you are desperate… that you want to play very much.’
I pardon her poor command of English. She speaks five languages, and I know she wasn’t reviling me. I played it for her- not one of my better performances, and with uncertainty and anxiety. I ignored her, and my hands stopped shaking. Then she interrupted me and corrected my position, and I lost some nerve. At the end of it all, she explained as carefully as she could.
‘You must learn the whole song before we see who will be cut.’
Cut? She knows the term ‘cut’? And she used it in reference to me? She was more than disappointed in my progress. If it was progress at all."
That was all written yesterday afternoon. Now, one day after, I had a shitty, shitty day. Period 1, Economics, I got picked up for not doing my homework.
I hate that number. Mental note. You deserve this. I hope it worsens.
I really am masochistic."
I felt like leaving school. Not the greatest feeling in the world. I was shattered by the fact Cicchini, one of my favourite teachers, had yelled at me. I used to be one of his favourites, too. The sad thing was, Mum asked me if I wanted to go to school today when I told her how much I would like to stay at home. Being the ass I am, I decided to take the full grunt of the blow. Today was a massive waste of time, and it’s now 8.23, and I am getting off to do my homework. And practice Jupiter. I’ll be busy tomorrow night, so I don’t know how I’m going to get anything done.
Mental note. You deserve this, John. Now get off, and get started. Fool.