Marked by a noticeable increase in general Honey Badger-ness towards being in school. I started out the semester giving my all, studying for hours and hours, overloading and overwhelming myself. Although I try to let go of needing to not only get an A, but a 100% A, the perfectionism is near-primal in me, and as such, hard to shake. In addition, I've been putting more pressure on myself as these grades will play a part in getting accepted to the grad school I want.
However, something happened Monday morning, aka First Day Of Week 8. I slid into my usual Chemistry class seat behind Girl Who Talks Too Loudly And Doesn't Know The Answer, next to Quieter Girl Who Is Really Funny But Hardly Ever Shows It, and I could feel something in the air. The class has thinned to what is, I assume, its fighting weight: after our first test, a small exodus has us down to about 45 students. We have the air of survivors, and while we spent the first half of the semester putting up with our Chem teacher's preference for replacing actual teaching with dated sexist jokes, now we're done tiptoeing around him.
(sample conversation - Me: "I'm sorry I'm a bit late on Wednesdays, I get here as fast as I can from work." Him: "Oh, I thought you were sipping cappuccinos with your sweetie and lost track of time." Me: "No. I'm a grown up with a job.")
I'm realizing that while I am halfway through this semester, I'm only 1/8th through all my post bac requirements, so the only way to survive this is to chill, a little. I had a Biology test and scored a 100 out of 104. My Bio teacher - who I adore - gently chastised me for missing 4 points (he knows my story, and has high expectations of me, which I appreciate). I, in return, laughed. Honey Badger don't care.
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