The Trouble with DuBois
So today was a disaster, and it isn't even over yet.
So all this semester, I've been plagued by shitty assignments and shit group members. I've had three group projects in different classes, and all have been me pulling the load and doing all the work while my group members do nothing but sit on their hands and watch the wrinkles and gray hairs beginning to form.
And despite me throwing my entire soul into these goddamn projects, they're still just barely A's. I got a 90.5 on my Elizabethan Powerpoint, and god only knows what we'll get on the wiki (due today), because getting my group to work on it was like pulling teeth. And then Megan went and changed all the font to neon pink. You have to wear sunglasses (or at least I do) to even make out what the fuck you're reading. It's fucking awful and there's no time to go back through each page and change it. So that's a disaster.
So now my other classes have been suffering because of all the work I'm throwing into the group work. Most of all, the DuBois class with Prof. McCoy. I should've known not to take it, not with my course load. Because even in the 200-level classes, I have to throw in all my effort and just keep on digging through more levels of self-identity than I ever have before, until I've scraped the bottom of my soul dry; With all that, I can manage a B+. I've been pulling B-'s and C's most of the semester, and it's been killing me. I KNOW I'm better than this, and at the same time I know I'm not smart enough for the class.
This next paper, due in a week, is ten pages. Everything else can go to hell for all I care; this paper has to be a knock-out. If I do nothing else this semester, I have to do that.
God damn it. I'm not even brave enough to go into her office to consult about a thesis. It took me 40 minutes to compose myself to even get up on the right floor, and before I could knock, she found me on the stairwell, and I burst into tears, said I'd e-mail her, and ran off.
I wish I was braver, but I wish that I was smarter even more. Most of all, I wish I could be honest with myself.
I think I'm going to go work on C-W portfolio before class at 4:30. Or at least find an empty classroom so I can stop crying before I go outside. If I keep on like this, I'm going to make myself sick.
So all this semester, I've been plagued by shitty assignments and shit group members. I've had three group projects in different classes, and all have been me pulling the load and doing all the work while my group members do nothing but sit on their hands and watch the wrinkles and gray hairs beginning to form.
And despite me throwing my entire soul into these goddamn projects, they're still just barely A's. I got a 90.5 on my Elizabethan Powerpoint, and god only knows what we'll get on the wiki (due today), because getting my group to work on it was like pulling teeth. And then Megan went and changed all the font to neon pink. You have to wear sunglasses (or at least I do) to even make out what the fuck you're reading. It's fucking awful and there's no time to go back through each page and change it. So that's a disaster.
So now my other classes have been suffering because of all the work I'm throwing into the group work. Most of all, the DuBois class with Prof. McCoy. I should've known not to take it, not with my course load. Because even in the 200-level classes, I have to throw in all my effort and just keep on digging through more levels of self-identity than I ever have before, until I've scraped the bottom of my soul dry; With all that, I can manage a B+. I've been pulling B-'s and C's most of the semester, and it's been killing me. I KNOW I'm better than this, and at the same time I know I'm not smart enough for the class.
This next paper, due in a week, is ten pages. Everything else can go to hell for all I care; this paper has to be a knock-out. If I do nothing else this semester, I have to do that.
God damn it. I'm not even brave enough to go into her office to consult about a thesis. It took me 40 minutes to compose myself to even get up on the right floor, and before I could knock, she found me on the stairwell, and I burst into tears, said I'd e-mail her, and ran off.
I wish I was braver, but I wish that I was smarter even more. Most of all, I wish I could be honest with myself.
I think I'm going to go work on C-W portfolio before class at 4:30. Or at least find an empty classroom so I can stop crying before I go outside. If I keep on like this, I'm going to make myself sick.