The First Paper
Every college student, or student in general, has a superstitious habit when it comes to exams. It could be anything from that t-shirt you wore to an exam that you got an A on to the lingerie that you put on to feel more confident to repeating the exact same cycle of events prior to a big test. Mine is the First Paper. I have a theory that the First Paper pretty much determines how the rest of the semester is going to go. Now, if you refer to a few posts back in my Bad Luck Week, you'll remember that I got a B+ on this semester’s first paper. It might not be bad for you, but writing is something that I implicitly know how to do. To get a B+ on a paper is a blow to my fragile and overdramatic ego. I was crushed.
Now, three weeks later, after Paper Two in the same class, I have broken the curse of the First Paper. I should explain that there is a window of opportunity to lift the effects of the First Paper-the second paper in the same class must be an A, thus proving that the first paper was just a bad indicator. That class was pure torture. Papers are handed out at the last possible minute, in alphabetical order [which does me no good]. The professor also does this thing where she gives advice about the major errors found in the papers. This is a form of psychological torture. I remember this paper-- it was a painstaking, fighting effort at 3am that had a risky argument that proved difficult to support. I was vexed now, fidgeting in my seat. Finally, my paper was passed back to me. Flipflipflip through five pages and HA! An A!! The October air, brisker than normal, felt good on my lips as I walked outside.
So hello to you, fall semester, junior year. I'm ready to play now.
Now, three weeks later, after Paper Two in the same class, I have broken the curse of the First Paper. I should explain that there is a window of opportunity to lift the effects of the First Paper-the second paper in the same class must be an A, thus proving that the first paper was just a bad indicator. That class was pure torture. Papers are handed out at the last possible minute, in alphabetical order [which does me no good]. The professor also does this thing where she gives advice about the major errors found in the papers. This is a form of psychological torture. I remember this paper-- it was a painstaking, fighting effort at 3am that had a risky argument that proved difficult to support. I was vexed now, fidgeting in my seat. Finally, my paper was passed back to me. Flipflipflip through five pages and HA! An A!! The October air, brisker than normal, felt good on my lips as I walked outside.
So hello to you, fall semester, junior year. I'm ready to play now.