I grade myself on a curve.

I’ve been succumbing to the seasonal glumness that I seem to contract regularly around this time in Canada. I think it’s the weather: it’s warming up and teasing me into thinking it’s spring, but nothing’s green and beautiful yet, and I refuse to be lulled into a false sense of security. The consequence of such stubbornness is a natural sort of grouchiness that seems to follow me around everywhere, and especially at school. (That’s another thing: I always burn out at school this time of the year on account of being SO anxious for summer, but also being cognizant of the great many hurdles I must leap before I can be free for three months.)

But don’t worry; I got over my melancholia.

I was feeling especially stressed because I hadn’t received any grades back from any of the papers or exams I’ve written over the past two months, but yesterday the grading gods poured down an abundance of joy upon my head, and all is well (until the next dry spell, that is).

I got an A on three papers in three different classes, and even better grades on two exams that had been stressing me out.

Still, despite the fact that I was thrilled with my grades, I couldn’t really feel full joy about them, because I didn’t know what other students had gotten.

I’m only happy, I suppose, if I’m doing better than most of the other kids. I could have gotten a C- on all those things and probably been just as happy as I am with my A’s if the teacher announced that the highest grade was a C-, and only one student got that (me!).  I’m petty like that.

That’s why I like classes being graded on a curve so much: I get such a thrill to see my grade ahead of the curve, and then it’s no secret what the other students got. It gives me great joy to beat the curve. Sadly, I haven’t been in a curved class since my days at ASU, and even my deranged obsession with beating all the other students is not strong enough to make me want to go back to that hellhole, so I have to just make up a mental curve in my head and pretend I’m at the front of it. Oh, the things we do to preserve our delusions, our elevated images of ourselves.

As it is, I’m just glad that I got good grades, and short of flat-out asking the other students what they got, all I can hope is that everyone else did worse than me. (And trust me: I hope.)

The other good thing that happened to me yesterday? I had a fruitful day at the post office, picking up a box full of secret goodies for my readers next week, and a cheque for $200 that the government of Canada refunded me for overpaying on my student visa renewal application (never mind the fact that they ordered me to pay the extra $200 in the first place, and never mind the fact that I had to pay to renew my stupid visa only because they STILL haven’t let me become a permanent resident). I was grateful for the unexpected bonus. The American government would have never sent back an overpayment like that, not with all their deficits to think of.

(It speaks volumes to my character when I say that I wouldn’t have sent it back, either. I guess on the morality grade scale, I’m behind the curve. {But I’m probably not the worst. I mean, I’ve never killed a person. That’s gotta count for something… I’d give myself a C, or maybe a C minus.})

About Camille

I'm Camille. I have a butt-chin. I live in Canada. I was born in Arizona. I like Diet Dr. Pepper. Hello. You can find me on Twitter @archiveslives, Facebook at facebook.com/archivesofourlives, instagram at ArchivesLives, and elsewhere.
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