Wednesday
I moved most my stuff out of my dorm and into storage unit today, then studied and worked on my final paper for my Faust class that night at Idiot Boy, a newer coffee shop north of campus. Insomnia was my regular haunt, but I knew if I hung out there I wouldn't get anything done because all my friends would be there too, so I tried Idiot Boy out. It had a low budget but edgy feel -- it was filled with old sofas and thrift store furniture, with black walls, dim light and loud music.
Thursday
I was up overnight working on my paper, with my notes written haphazardly on a scratchpaper notepad. Because my Mac was now packed, I typed it in a computer lab. When I finished, I hit print but didn't hit save, which was an awful mistake: the computer lab printers were notorious for crashing, and could take your computer down with them. Which is what happened. Having not slept at all the night before and not much in the preceding days, I was devastated. This was my favorite class, the only one I really cared about, and I was now in danger of failing. There was no way I could retype it before I had to leave for my flight home for winter break.
So I went to my professor's office, pleaded my case, and was allowed to type it and fax it to him -- though I'd be marked down for turning it in late. I called my mom to let her know, and after she picked me up at Midway she took me to her office (she was doing secretarial work for the local realty association at the time) and I re-wrote my paper on her computer. It wasn't nearly as good -- I was a sleep-deprived emotional wreck -- but at least I got it done.
I got a B, which was marked down to a C, which I think brought my overall grade in the class down to a B. I got an A in English, a C in my philosophy class, and an F in math. Not an auspicious start, but I could always use freshman forgiveness to erase that F, right? Sure -- except that I failed it the second time, too, which meant both Fs stayed on my record, pulling my GPA down even further. Crap.
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