i remember finals week last semester. the list from that blog post still stands.
here's a refresher.
1. grab all of the books and notes you own.
2. spend an hour trying to find a place to camp out in the library, buy something with caffeine from highland java, and praise the extended hours.
3. spend a ridiculous amount of time on facebook, tumblr, youtube, or whatever you're into.
4. actually do your homework when you realize it's midnight and the library closes at two.
the last time i blogged about finals and exams, it was actually during finals week. this week is hell week, the last week of classes. i have two classes left in my career as a sophomore in college, and that scares me.
i feel that this week, and this finals week, is a bit different than last semester. for a number of reasons.
1. PAPERS. NOTHING BUT PAPERS.
2. oh, i have one actual final?
3. what do you mean, there's a portfolio party?
4. oh. i have to write a sonnet. okay.
5. is there food at the portfolio party?
6. what TIME is the portfolio party?
7. no matter how times i look at the sticky note that says "WRITE YOUR DAMN PAPER!", i just can't do it.
8. assigned reading? nahhhh.
the finals are currently standing like this.
1. two four-page essays for american lit due next tuesday. ACCOMPLISHED.
2. one ten page research paper on lolita. NOT HAPPENING.
3. one education portfolio. ACCOMPLISHED.
4. one classroom management plan. ACCOMPLISHED. with the help of my mother and some tears.
5. one poetry portfolio. GETTING ACCOMPLISHED. this afternoon.
6. one sit-down ed psych final. LAUGHABLE.
7. one blog about finals week. IN PROGRESS.
number one on my list is making really happy. here's how this went down.
without my teacher placement, i don't have anything going on tuesdays and thursdays until one. however, i am good responsible young adult, and i still get up at eight thirty, shower, stand around in my towel trying to figure out what to wear, and go to breakfast at nine.
i then hole up in my library carrel with my stuffed simba.
|yes. i got instragram.|
go follow me or something.
I FUGGIN' HATE TROLLS, OKAY.
but anyway. on tuesday, i had nothing going on but class at one (which simba particularly enjoyed). after that, it was just library time. oh yay, library time. time at my carrel. like i'm having right now. because at my carrel, i have internet. and that means... TUMBLR.
i knew that i wanted to write my ten page paper. after all, i had given my twelve minute presentation on my paper, i had all of my research, and my TERRIBLE annotated bibliography (that's a blog post all by itself). i was ready to write this paper.
but i couldn't do it, nope nope, couldn't do it.
so i got out my prompt for dr. vivian's american lit class. i haven't read a required reading for that class in at least a month, and we just sit around and talk about life. the other day, we got into a large discussion about why men think they are better than grass. because we do, don't we? don't we think we're better than grass?
but that's not the point. the point was, i had to write two four page essays for next tuesday, the seventeenth. there was just something to tack onto my weekend, to tack onto my busy schedule, because of course, everything that ever has to do with being an RA happens during finals week.
i sat down, turned off my internet (except when i had to wikipedia to look up the death toll of september eleventh) and i wrote. here was what was accomplished.
1. two four page essays, each done in forty-five minutes.
2. two separate paper cuts, one on each hand.
3. one poem.
4. three staples.
when i turned both of those essays in yesterday, a week before they were due, you should've seen dr. vivian's face.
i spent a decent amount of time on sunday night working on my management plan. i got so far, gave up, and then got on tumblr. i then called my mother on monday and asked her about her management plan.
when students make her upset or don't listen to her, she stands on her desk and sings.
this will be something i will do when i student teach.
management plan, accomplished. and i even drove to the high school, interviewed my placement teacher for two minutes, and had her give me back my evaluation. which was good. i love it when i get good evaluations.
so now i'm sitting here with this ten page paper looming over my head. it's not like i didn't know about it. i've known about this paper since the first day of class on january eighth or ninth or tenth, whatever day it was. i've done my works cited. i've done my annotated bibliography. i gave my twelve minute presentation. i've read the book four times.
but i cannot write that paper for the life of me. not that i've tried all that hard.
the thing about papers is, i just have to write it. i know i can write it, i know it won't take me more than six hours, i just need that six hour time chunk. i can't start it and then leave. i can't write four pages today, five pages tomorrow, and the conclude it on sunday. i just can't work like that.
and i have so much other stuff going on that's not finals that i just don't have that chunk of time.
so today i'm making my poetry portfolio.
i could be working on that right now. i have lunch in half an hour, and then my last reading writing and research class. but instead, i'm blogging, taking stupid pictures on instagram, tumbling, and of course, writing this blog.
ahhhh, finals week.
the most daunting part of my poetry portfolio, right now, is the fact that he wants me to write a sonnet. i don't want to write a sonnet. i don't rhyme. i also have to go through my poems and edit them in ways that i might not like.
i'm going name the portfolio hunting whales. my best poem is called hunting whales, and it won a poetry contest last week. i bought a guitar with my cash prize.
|no, i haven't named it yet.|
speaking of bathrooms, last night i had this CRAZY dream that i was in the white house with michelle obama. it was one of those inception things where i realized that i didn't know how i got there, but i went with it anyway, and just accepted the fact that i was in the white house and chillin' with the first lady.
so i'm at the white house, and michelle obama has this CRAZY awesome mosaic tiled toilet, and man, do i have to pee. so i pee in this legitimate tile toilet and michelle obama is like, "i'm so glad that you like the toilets that we have here. barack and i love them so much."
i feel like this is a good spot to end my blog. because i'm not sure what just happened.
eventually, i'll write this ten page monstrosity (that's a pun. if you know my thesis.), i'll actually start working on my poetry portfolio, and who knows, i might make flashcards for my ed psych final. it's the only sit-down final that i have, so i might as well kind of prepare for it.
bless library hours, poetry cash prizes that lead to classical guitars, and michelle obama's dream toilets.
and bless finals week. we can do it.