I Failed

Math. Enough said...

So I'm pretty sure I royally failed my math test this week. I couldn't even finish some of the problems because I simply didn't know what I was doing. Best part: I had my notes sitting right next to me. I had gone over the review with a friend of mine who is basically a math teacher the night before and I still had exactly zero ideas of how to do it.

I almost started to cry in class because I was so frustrated. I finished pretty quickly since I couldn't do some of the problems, so I had an entire hour before my next class. That hour was quite possibly the longest hour in history. My failure was on my mind and I was slipping into a deep depression. Paying attention in my next class was just not an option. All I could think about was my epic failure.

Back story: When I was in fourth grade, there were three levels of math class. I was in the highest. I aced both my homework and tests. I missed one problem on one assignment and my crap-tastic teacher dropped me to the lowest class. Not the middle... the  lowest.

This was obviously a huge blow to me and I learned a lesson that day that has stuck with me. I learnt that, if I miss one problem, I have failed. I also learnt that doing homework got me nowhere. After that, I quit doing my work, and in high school, I stopped going to class. I mean, why should I? I was just going to fail anyhow, right?

The actions of this one teacher screwed me up for life. I obviously didn't graduate high school on time, and now I get such an anxiety attack when I have to do math that I hardly understand it. I'm beyond tempted to find her and tell her exactly what she did to me. I hated that teacher anyways, so it would feel good.

Anyhow, I've got an absolutely phenomenal teacher now. He takes extra time if someone doesn't understand something, he's offered to help me one-on-one if I need it, and he's freaking adorable! He's the perfect grandpa.

Here's hoping I pass this class...