Procrastination pays off

I had to do a Lit presentation today. I had the thing mostly written, but this morning before school realized that it had no organization whatsoever and was just generally terrible.

The project was to pick a poem relating to the book we just finished reading, The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro (oh how I love that book), and talk about how it relates thematically. It was a five-minute presentation, including the time we took to read the poem aloud.

I worked on it throughout the day and finished it during the class prior to Lit. I whispered the whole thing once through, and then went to class.

I was SO NERVOUS. Lit is probably the class that I stress about the most, because I always feel like I have no idea what I'm talking about. I sat through two of my classmates' presentation and tried to discreetly review my notes, but couldn't bring myself to totally ignore what they were saying.

Then it was my turn.

I started to freak out a little bit as I handed out copies of my poem, "It Was All Very Tidy" by Robert Graves. I made it through my introduction, but my heart started POUNDING as I began to panic about my unpreparedness. So when I started to read my poem, I read it ridiculously slowly. I figured that the points I would lose for reading my poem too slowly would be fewer than the points I would lose for being completely incoherent over the course of the entire presentation.

Reading slowly calmed me down, so I was fine for the rest of the presentation, even though I still had basically no clue what I was talking about. I threw in random references to the book that came to my head as I was speaking, but afterwards I thought I had done terribly.

I sat down. I can't even imagine how red my face had been.

My teacher looked over at me and said "I thought the way you read your poem was very effective...almost creepy, the way you went really slowly. It worked really well."

My classmates chimed in, agreeing with her, and telling me how well I had read the poem.

In the hallway after class, someone came up to me and told me they were impressed by how well-organized my presentation was.

Moral of the story: Have a panic attack in the middle of the presentation after not rehearsing, then throw in random facts whenever you feel like it. And people will think you are smart.

I need a break.

Last night I was up late studying for chem and writing a lit essay.

Today I was exhausted and sick.

My dad picked me up after my last class (an hour early). I came home, and slept for two hours. I then ate dinner and got together the stuff I need for tomorrow.

Next I shall make my lunch, write a little of my Sam Adams paper and/or my Model UN position papers, and go to bed.

Reaching and reaching.

As everyone who has and will read this knows, I attend a competitive public magnet school. I chose my school because I knew that the academics would be awesome and I would learn a lot. Additionally, I thought that the school would actually challenge me, something my middle school miserably failed to do. I never anticipated, though, that the challenges could prove to be overwhelming to the point of tears and panic attacks.

For the past week or so (ever since mid-trimester reports came out, incidentally), I've been feeling like I can't do it. My brain tells me, You can! Keep going! Go! but my heart and body want me to stop. They want me to relax, get a good night's sleep, and take time out of my life to think. I had no idea which plan is going to win out.

This evening the two ideas finally clashed enough that there was a battle (read: I cried and tried to make it all go away and hoped my dad would make it better.). My heart was telling me that it wouldn't matter if I stopped, but my brain was telling me to go anyway. The combination of the two ideas led to an odd, unexpected, and unwelcome thought. Maybe I really can't do it. Maybe I'm just not an "A" student in math (which I hate) and chemistry (which I love). Maybe it's okay to enjoy something while not excelling at it. And maybe I shouldn't worry about it and just let things happen.

I started to write a conclusion for this post and realized that I have no conclusion yet. My dad suggested a math tutor. It sounds like it might work. I know for a fact that's I'm going to see my chemistry teacher tomorrow and figure out why (after a high test grade) I'm only in the "lower part of the A range". Beyond that, though, I have no idea. For now, at least, I'm going to bed early.