This word of the day was too easy. I’m sitting in yet another coffee shop—this time the classic Starbucks since it opens at 6:30 AM—doing work of some variation. I’m wearing a sweatshirt with no bra; you can see my nipples. I’m wearing my mom’s leggings; you can see panty lines. Finals are going well.
I’ve already taken my physics exam and received 0.3 above the minimum for the letter grade that I want. I’m studying biochemistry at the moment, writing in a Rhodia notebook with a sepia tone pen. I’m boujee, remember?
I always go back to this time last year. This time last year during finals week, I got mono and passed out on the floor in my dorm room. I had to be taken to the hospital by EMS. I was afraid of what could be wrong. And behold, I had mono. I attribute the kissing disease to “wet week” a month and a half prior.
I did absolutely horrible on my finals last year. Many of those grades bumped me even lower than I already had (cough, cough—genetics). Being hospitalized earlier in the month and now being sick, I had to take incompletes on my final papers. I had a ton of fun doing those over the summer. Woo hoo.
Now, I’m sitting cross-legged on a wooden chair at a table with my study materials sprawled out ready to get another dirty chai. I finally feel capable for finals week. Like my pen-stained pencil case says, “just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly…”