Ugh, it is that dreaded time in any students life….FINALS WEEK. All the work you have been doing for the past 14 weeks is being put to the test. For real. I hate this time of the semester. It is the pits. And this one is especially tough for me.
If you follow me and my blog you know that I am in a class for the second time. And for the second time, I am not doing well. I must do well on the final or I will have a D in the class, which in college, D’s do NOT get degrees. So to say I am stressed is a god damn understatement.
This week has been tough. Trying to balance our schedules and fit it all in. Plus our one helper, Matt’s mom, got in an accident. Thank god she is okay, but she did hurt her knee and is now on crutches for 6 weeks. So our extra set of hands is not available. We have been through plenty of situations, much more stressful than this, but for some reason, we are not handling this week well. We have spent most of the week jumping down each others throats or just ignoring each other.
I set up my exam schedule to get this stupid statistics test over with first. Tomorrow. 4pm. The other two I feel good about and have B’s in both classes. My main focus is this one mother fucking bitch of a class. If I pass this class, I will graduate next summer and this whole lame idea of going back to school will be over. If I fail, I need to change my major, switch schools and lose a shit load of credits. Failing is not an option…..but it actually is because I am HORRIBLE at math. I am trying to stay positive but my head is taking me to places like, well what should I switch my major too, and what bitchy email I will write the teacher. I guess my head is just being realistic. Ugh.
But either way, this exact moment tomorrow, my statistics adventure will be over. 24 more hours of unknowing and worry. One more day to stare at information that is completely foreign. Pass or fail, it will be done.
So this time tomorrow, if you see me on social media….you will know I passed. If you see nothing, assume the worst. Either way, I will have a beer in my hand, a kid on my hip and a cute boy telling me I am awesome (except at statistics.)
The Shitty Housewife