I'm a Nutcase. Really.

I AM SO STUPID.

I can say I'm the stupidest person in the world and it wouldn't be an exaggeration. I'm sure you can't help but agree after you read this post. So don't if you still want to believe in me.

I don't know why I kept screwing up today at school. But I did. Over and over again.

It began first period (Physics EA). The teacher gave us a pop quiz (our second one already!) It's funny how I just learned how to "vector" in PS over the summer, yet I can't make any sense of vectoring in Physics.

I started stupidly at the problem on the blackboard for half an hour, trying to graph vector A = 5m 40 degrees W. I thought to myself, "Is it 40 degrees in the direction of the protractor or the graph?" I got really confused because south would mean I had to turn my protractor upside-down. But the protractor's "west" would become the graph's "east." Which direction was I supposed to follow?

At first, I felt confident that I would figure it out eventually. Perhaps it was a temporary brain fart and I would start to understand after I relaxed a bit. Relax I did not and nothing came to me. Minutes passed by and I still had no idea. I kept drawing, erasing, redrawing, and erasing. I gave up on the graph after a while and decided to proceed on to the calculations. But I couldn't do those, either! Maybe an hour passed before I noticed people around me using their notes. >__> I quickly grabbed my own notes from my binder. Alas, I didn't even understand my own notes (you must be thinking how much more hopeless can this girl get but oh boy, she can!) I suddenly felt that old panic that came back to haunt me.

I was in the fifth grade, staring at the horrendous "F" sitting on my test paper. Yes, that infamous "F" that preyed on so many students. I had never been a victim until that day. And to this day, it was still my only "F." You might be wondering what kind of test it was, coming from the girl who worked so hard to receive A's from all her math tests, even when one problem's calculations took up an entire page. It was the most horrible kind of test: street maps that required labeling of all sorts. I had to do a map of my own neighborhood. I didn't know what was considered the "back" or "front" of my home, nor what direction school was from home. Back then, I had a big problem with "north" and "south." To this day, I still can't make any sense of directions. It's so confusing!

Getting back to Physics class...the teacher was nice enough to let everyone take the quiz until the end of class. I gave up a while after the bell rang and tried my best to hold back tears.

My last period of the day was English. I did not turn in the homework that I worked so and on last night because I apparently left it at home. I thought I remembered putting it in my binder, but I guess it was only my imagination. This is another problem - sometimes I can't differentiate what really happened and what I only thought happened. There are many times that I don't know dream from reality.

(As I write this, I'm starting to think I'm more of a nutcase than I thought.)

As I have mentioned before, English is currently one of my worst subjects (it didn't used to be). In class, Mr. Nickelsen would pass out different articles that we had to interpret through SOAPS (Subject, Occasion, Audience, Purpose, Speaker). So far, I haven't been able to get any of my responses correct. I either didn't understand the text, or I misinterpreted it. When we were assigned to read, "Once More to the Lake" by E.B. White, I was excited because I thought that this was the first time I truly understood the essay. I was proud of my answers, no bull-shitting necessary. But I didn't have it with me in class.

Our English class starts everyday with some journal writing. The teacher explained that he will check and grade our journals every five entries. Well, today happened to be the fifth day. And no, I didn't leave my journal home like you might have guessed. And I did write my fifth journal. We turned our homework in at the end of class and I was in a frenzy trying to find my homework (the one with the answers that I'm so proud of and the one I printed twice so it'd be perfect). I was a mess. Friends tried to help me look for it, but it couldn't be found. I was so upset that I gathered everything on my desk and left the classroom. I also stuffed my journal in my bag. On the very day we were supposed to turn them in.

No, it wasn't that I didn't realize I had it. I realized just in time, actually. I walked across the football field, opened my bag, saw the journal, muttered, "Oh shit," and ran back across the field to the English building. When I reached the building, I was devastated to find the door closed and locked. I knocked in vain and looked around me. There were other students hanging around nearby. I asked them if they by any chance knew where Mr. Nickelsen went. After all, they were right in front of his door and might be waiting for him, too. Nobody knew and one girl even asked, "Who's Nickelsen?" I paced back and forth in front of his door, debating whether I should wait in case he comes back or just leave. After a few minutes, I decided I waited long enough and left.

Now that I'm sitting nicely back at home, I hit another terrible realization. Guys, I'm really much more stupid than you think. I'm so stupid that it's unbelievable and telling this to others would only sound like fibbing.

The closed classroom that I furiously and embarrassingly ran back to was not my classroom. Not at all. You see, the English building has two sides and I had run to the wrong side of the building. The two sides look identical and I often get them mixed up.

I swear. If Joyce didn't guide walk with me to class everyday, I would have walked into the wrong classroom!