Weekend Coffee Share: The week that wasn’t


I had everything planned. Give my exams, Monday and Tuesday. Finish up my presentation for Wednesday and then go for a Jazz session in a bar in Auckland CBD. I would have finished up with everything with a smile on my face.

 

If we were having coffee then I would have told you that it didn’t go that way. In fact, it might be the worst week I have had here. I gave my exams, tensed and when I was done instead of a smile on my face I had a frown. Then I realized that I have misread the event on Facebook and the jazz session is actually this Tuesday and not last. It would be here from which everything went downhill.

 

I would tell you over coffee that on Wednesday I was late for my presentation. My bus was late, which always reaches on time that didn’t. And I’m regret of my mistake of not taking the previous bus every second. My sir canceled my presentation. No matter how much I begged, pleaded nothing came from it. 10 minutes and I loose 20% grades. As much as I want to hate him, I can’t. I screwed up.

 

I would tell you that the crazy part of my mind was laughing over the futility of it all: work hard over entire semester and screw up in ten minutes. It was laughing, I was laughing as I found out how easy it was to screw up this big.

 

I’m mortified: if I don’t score B grade over the semester then I would not be able to complete my Master’s. I had to worry about my house first, now my degree. I wish this was all for my week.

 

Friday. I had secured a last assistant job at the university for next semester. My professor told me that due to being inundated with applicants, I would no longer be hired.

 

I tried to distract myself. I volunteered in the church I’m a part of since Easter but all I thought about was my screw up. Everyone was talking about exams and all I did was mull over my scores. Sadly the distraction that did work was killing random robots while playing Call of Duty. I didn’t try to ask myself why am I this way.

 

Speaking of the church, today every sentence uttered in the service, every scripture referred seemed directed at me. The Pastors spoke about worrying, tension, forgiveness. Everything that I could think in my mind was addressed in the service. As I left, one of the Pastors walked me out. He knew something was wrong and at the end he prayed for me. I still feel his presence on my back where he kept his hand.

 

Plus, today they had a jazz choir. If we do have coffee, I would apologize for dropping such bombs on you. I would apologize as I wanted to talk but all I did was whine.

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