This finals week started out poorly. My first final--7:30 am Monday--was in a class that I was starting to get the hang of--or so I thought. I couldn't remember anything. The next final--right after the first one--I was in such bad shock about the first one that I couldn't concentrate. So those two went badly.
Then I had a break until Thursday. My first final that day (and only one I thought I had that day, but we'll get to that) went pretty well. On my way home after that, I was remarking that "The longer this semester goes on, the more it seems like a 'practice semester'." By which, I meant that it seemed like I was going to have to take everything over again.
Today, I went to go take my last final--or so I thought. Apparently, I had been looking in the wrong spot for what time that final was. It wasn't at noon today. It was noon yesterday.
Well, I'm going to go into the basement, and I'm going to stay there until I get done being mad at myself.
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