Took the midterm for the class I'm enrolled in. C+. Not what I expected but I know of at least one person who failed it with a damn F. It's a grad class during the summer; an entire semester condensed into ten sessions (2.5 hours each) over five weeks. Goddamn. This professor is tough and vague at times. Not exactly the best combination. I have the final paper to write this weekend. I'm nervous about it. I just want to squeeze out with a B as a final grade and I'll be fine. That's all I want.
It's going to be a long weekend that will produce a 5-6 page paper on
Ilan Stavans'
On Borrowed Words memoir. I'm dreading it but it must be completed.
Onward even though parts of my body are begging to retreat, to change our direction and fight another day. There is no other day to fight. This is it. "Damn," they say with no attempt to hide their reluctance. Damn.
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