Alright, so apparently grad school is fully capable of punching you in the teeth, then pointing at you and laughing. Good to know. Maybe I’ll be better prepared next time.
Only, this time I was prepared. I studied all weekend long. I kicked myself through all the hours of that class so I’d stay awake, despite my sleep deficit and blood sugar crashes after lunch, which of course is when the class meets. I wrote down the professor’s every word. I stayed up until 1 in the morning the night before, drilling and drilling the information in my notes until my brain couldn’t handle it anymore.
I worked really, really hard.
Down for the count. 10, 9, 8….
I’m doing the same thing tonight, for another class that makes even less sense. And I’ll do it again tomorrow night for another test on Friday that’s equally daunting.
It could be worse. It could be worse. It could be worse.
And, surprisingly, sometimes it’s really hard to laugh.