Dear Diary,
Today, I am not just good, I am soaring like a pigeon over a Parisian baguette shop. I am on cloud nine, ten, and possibly eleven. Why, you ask? Because I got a 9.4/10 on my research paper and rewarded myself with a chicken pizza. What more could a humble scholar like me possibly ask for?
Let me take you back, diary. Remember those two discourse analysis presentations I was losing sleep over? Boom! Scored 10/10 on both. Insert fireworks and dramatic slow clap here.
And then… the research paper. Ah yes, the noble collaboration with Patricia. We got a 9.4/10—can you believe it?! Shoutout to Patricia for carrying the weight of the Results, Discussion, and Conclusion. And let us not forget me, the hero who slayed the dragons of Introduction, Theoretical Background, Literature Review #2, Methodology and References. Patricia did literature review #1. It was a literary buffet, and we both brought a dish.
Now, I won’t lie to you, diary Patricia can be a bit much. But you know what? She’s a hardworking, deadline-crushing, rubric-chasing warrior. I respect that. She’s like the broccoli of group work: not always fun, but very good for you.
Now, about French. I don’t even know how to describe this. I studied so hard for the quiz. I mean, two or three days straight of conjugating verbs like my life depended on it. The quiz was today (yes, Monday) deep down, I know it is not going to end well. I have a feeling my French grade is going to go the way of a balloon caught in the wind. Just... poof, gone.
Anyway. I didn’t cook today—because, surprise! I pulled an all-nighter prepping for French and skipped breakfast like a reckless academic. But the moment Patricia texted me our score, I literally melted into the floor and whispered, “Worth it.” I saw my 9.4/10 and said you earned this pizza.” So I ordered one and grabbed a lemon soda like it was a victory chalice.
But oh, the tragic tale of digital dependency! Since only one person can submit the paper (Patricia), now I have to do the most humbling thing known to mankind: beg her for the PDF so I can see the professor’s comments.
And guess what, dear diary? After my feast, I lay down to watch a K-drama—Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha. My official rating: 5.5/10 (adult me). Teen me would’ve given it an 8, but current me feels like I’m watching a Hallmark movie on espresso. I prefer Go Back Couple—it reigns supreme.
But plot twist: I fell asleep. The show became soothing background music. The only thing that woke me was my own hand smashing the spacebar. Classic. I didn’t even turn off the lights. I was one crumpled paper away from full dramatic collapse.
At 9:00 PM, I video-called my mom. She took one look at my face and said I looked like I was “about to cook up some serious mischief.” I wasn’t! I just had that smug, satisfied smirk of someone winning at life. Mom knows me too well.
Update: 10:13 PM – I did have to beg Patricia. She hit me with “I don’t know how to download the rubric” like we were born yesterday. BUT, to her credit, she sent a photo of the comments. Still, I want the actual PDF, diary! Imagine someone asking to see my work and I pull out an image like, “Here you go!” A photo, diary. As if I’m out here building my academic portfolio out of screenshots. Am I a scholar or a meme page?
Was even considering attending the final lecture to ask the professor directly, like some desperate side character in a rom-com chasing closure.
BUT WAIT! UPDATE 10:23 PM – Well, surprise, surprise. Patricia had a change of heart and actually sent me the paper! I take back 40% of my complaints. (The rest still stand.) Honestly, if there’s another group project coming up, I might—might—want to work with her again.
Anyway, reality has crashed back in. I don’t have class tomorrow, but I must buy groceries and print worksheets for finals. My dorm’s food inventory currently includes: bread, pasta, and rice. Which sounds like the carb version of a sad love triangle. And definitely not breakfast.
Until next time,
Your Academic Diva