My apologies.
Apr. 21st, 2004 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kiralamouseIt feels wrong to post about something quite seriously on LiveJournal, but since I've been talking about the project anyway, I might as well be honest about what's happening.
The time for me to do my history project has come and gone. And I have nothing accomplished for it. This project is worth... not counting the part I've finished for an earlier deadline, 50% of my final grade. In other words, I do not stand a chance of passing this course -- unless my professor choses to throw me a bone for the explanatory essay I'll be sending in, which is approximately as likely to happen as a particular tree in my particular front yard is likely to be struck by lightning this year. It's barely possible, but not remotely probable.
So for the first time in my life, I'm staring failure in the face. And it's my own fault, for ignoring it and for poor time management ("poor" may be too weak an adjective, but as my take-responsibility-for-your-actions parents are willing to consider a formal psychiatric problem as the root cause, I'm willing to consider leaving the blame at "stupid" rather than "you blithering slacker idiot").
I hate being to blame. Hate it hate it hate it. I feel like an awful human being for neglecting my responsibility, then I feel like a drama queen for collapsing on my bed in tears. Or posting in my LJ about it. But I did start this story, and I might as well finish it. And you know, I'm feeling too seriously about this to make light of it.
The time for me to do my history project has come and gone. And I have nothing accomplished for it. This project is worth... not counting the part I've finished for an earlier deadline, 50% of my final grade. In other words, I do not stand a chance of passing this course -- unless my professor choses to throw me a bone for the explanatory essay I'll be sending in, which is approximately as likely to happen as a particular tree in my particular front yard is likely to be struck by lightning this year. It's barely possible, but not remotely probable.
So for the first time in my life, I'm staring failure in the face. And it's my own fault, for ignoring it and for poor time management ("poor" may be too weak an adjective, but as my take-responsibility-for-your-actions parents are willing to consider a formal psychiatric problem as the root cause, I'm willing to consider leaving the blame at "stupid" rather than "you blithering slacker idiot").
I hate being to blame. Hate it hate it hate it. I feel like an awful human being for neglecting my responsibility, then I feel like a drama queen for collapsing on my bed in tears. Or posting in my LJ about it. But I did start this story, and I might as well finish it. And you know, I'm feeling too seriously about this to make light of it.
