Well, I just sent my professor a "come to Jesus" email. Not really, but it feels like that. Basically, I sent her an email saying that I don't like my grades, but don't have any idea how to improve them. Which is completely true. I spend so much time and effort on that class, and it doesn't seem to matter. And I don't even know what she wants from me. I spend 12 hours on a stupid presentation, and my texts, based off the bibliography she gave us, were not related closely enough to the text and to women in general. My classmates thought the presentation was informative and helpful, yet somehow it yet again was not good enough for her. Yes, I could be a big girl and go in and talk to her, but I have NO desire to do this face-to-fact. Plus this way, I can do it now, stop thinking about it for the weekend, and hopefully escape from it all for a while. I am utterly disheartened about my ability to give her what she wants and I hate that the whole situation is making me doubt myself. The only saving grace is that it seems like all of my class feels this way. That and my whole program is lovely and some of my friends said some very nice things about me last week. I'll just hold on to those. Although one of the guys is not exactly my favorite person right now. It's not even that the grades matter that much to me, though. I mean, I'm not going on in the system, so I won't be applying to doctoral programs. The real world won't care. It's just what it represents. And I've had hard graders before. But they always showed you how to do better, and they made sure you knew that that was their goal. I'm just not going to think about it any more.
Instead I'll concentrate on the fact that two of my best friends from high school will be up here this weekend. They are so low key and fun and funny and great. They might just save my sanity.
