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torquillThe exam this morning was good, as such things go. They caught me on a rough spot in cell division, but that's okay. For the rest, I actually found myself smiling a few times with the pleasant sensation of being gently challenged on things I know a great deal about. There is some enjoyment to be had from a well-written exam.
The exam on Tuesday has me tied in knots. I don't know the most recent material at all well. I'm having trouble finding study strategies for what is essentially a pile of miscellaneous bits, various small pathways in all sorts of systems without any cohesive link; almost all of them are animal systems, which make very little sense to me in the first place. I'm feeling a bit panicky -- I need at least a C, and I'm not sure I'd get that if I were to take it right now. Several of these items have me thinking "I should make a flashcard for that"... and there's an immediate emotional backlash, similar to the sort I would get if, having accidentally stuck my hand in a fire, I were to consciously try to do so again. It's underlain by an obscure sort of guilt I feel from knowing that I could do more to get this, and I'm not.
I studied for a little bit tonight, and finally stopped when the urge to gnaw my own foot off became too strong. (That's a lot futher from the hyperbole camp than you might think.) I'll go insane if I force myself too much on this.
Sometimes it sucks to be a "good student".
The exam on Tuesday has me tied in knots. I don't know the most recent material at all well. I'm having trouble finding study strategies for what is essentially a pile of miscellaneous bits, various small pathways in all sorts of systems without any cohesive link; almost all of them are animal systems, which make very little sense to me in the first place. I'm feeling a bit panicky -- I need at least a C, and I'm not sure I'd get that if I were to take it right now. Several of these items have me thinking "I should make a flashcard for that"... and there's an immediate emotional backlash, similar to the sort I would get if, having accidentally stuck my hand in a fire, I were to consciously try to do so again. It's underlain by an obscure sort of guilt I feel from knowing that I could do more to get this, and I'm not.
I studied for a little bit tonight, and finally stopped when the urge to gnaw my own foot off became too strong. (That's a lot futher from the hyperbole camp than you might think.) I'll go insane if I force myself too much on this.
Sometimes it sucks to be a "good student".