Today Michael and I have officially been together for 9 years. I shall write a post about that later. Right now I’m too busy weeping and gnashing my teeth in preparation for my first Magazine Design test, or as I like to call it, impending doom. I have no idea what to expect tomorrow. Today I’m attempting to do all of the reading assignments (haven’t done any since the course began), purchase and read the magazines I will be critiquing (yeah, I was supposed to have those in advance), seek comfort from friends who passed the class already (few and far between since most people get stuck with it last semester of senior year) and convince myself that it’s not a big deal.
Normally I’m pretty chill about things. I’m one of those students other people hate. I seem to put in minimal effort and get optimal results. I seldom study for something til the day (or night) before. I like to wing it and it usually works. If life works out as planned, I’m set to graduate Magna Cum Laude from the J-School in just 3 months. Now’s the time to keep it together.
I’ve only failed one test in college. It was either Microeconomics or Statistics; I can’t even remember anymore. The first test was easy, so I didn’t study for the second one. I stayed up until 5:30 a.m. the night before my 8 a.m. exam discussing religion with a friend, Michael’s roommate at the time. I suck at math and apparently it isn’t innate knowledge. I still got an A in the class. My test grades were something like 97%, 52%, 98% and an A on the final. If this first Design test is a flop, it will not cripple my grade irrevocably. It will inspire me to pull myself up by my bootstraps (pardon the ridiculous cliche).
I think the reason I procrastinate so much is that I’m motivated by the last-minute challenge. I work well under pressure. My roommate Meredith found this article suggesting that we are not procrastinators but incubators. Isn’t that nice? I don’t know if I buy it. I’ve spent my entire life believing I’m a slacker who happens to have mad BS-ing skill and uncanny luck. Meredith sometimes complains that I’m the golden child, that nothing ever goes wrong for me and my life is effortless. Of course, this is coming from a girl who has money being thrown at her from Harvard, Emory, University of Washington and Vanderbilt, who are all willing to pay her to go to grad school there. She thinks she failed a test, then sets the curve for the entire class. Maybe we’re both geniuses with extremely low self-esteem. We think everything we do is horrible and are shocked when it all works out for us in the end.
That being said, I must go back to reading although my brain is mush. I hope this works out for me in the end. Comforting comments will be much appreciated.