It was Sunday. Mother’s Day. It had been a long day already. My grades had been posted and I made the mistake of looking at them. One Sunday…Mother’s Day. One C. Two B’s. And in Business Statistics…..a a big fat fucking F. Yep, I failed a class. Two semesters away from graduating with my Bachelors in Human Resource Management, and I failed a class.
12 weeks. Hours and hours and hours of studying. So much time away from my family. And $1000….GONE. For good. And now, on top of those things, I have to retake it. Pay again. And since I was cutting graduation and credits so close, my new completion date has been moved back an entire semester. IT BLOWS!!!!!!!!
I freaked. The tears starting flowing as well as the swear words. Poor Matt didn’t know what to do. I have had a lot of set backs and bad news lately, but this took me over the edge. I immediately emailed the teacher, my adviser, fucking everyone who was in charge. Telling them failure was not an option. Pretty much demanding a D. Explaining that I tried and that should be all that matters. I was a disaster. For days. I still am bummed now as I write this. My adviser got back in touch with me explaining the grade and that you do not get points for trying. This is college and you earn your grade through points. I failed and there was nothing anyone could do.
I know I should not beat myself up, but I am. There was countless times I should have been studying instead of doing all the other things that I do. I know I take on so many projects at once, but this is school. It is expensive and I SUCK at math. I should have buckled down more. Once I paid for this class I should have fully committed right there. But I didn’t.
So here I am, having to do this class all over again. Pretty shitty if you ask me! Like I am going to understand this shit the second go round. At least now I know the routine of the class and fingers, toes, legs and boobs crossed I can pull off a D!