I'll be back.

During the golden days, elementary school was filled with A’s given out to children just about for anything. If you sat up straight, you got a bright star sticker that glowed on the board next to the door to the classroom. In junior high, there were no more stars, but cramped locker spaces and wandering aimlessly through the hallways. High school beheld the same bouncing around like hormonal tumbleweed in a desert (and a little bit of dating), but you had a real purpose: preparing for college.

College, the final frontier. Sure, I’ll admit I’ve become the stereotypical lazy student. My bedtime varies anywhere from 1 AM – 8 AM, and I have plenty of “free time” for loafing and dining on pizza at the new, modernized dining facility. Yes, I know this is the last step. My days of lounging are over. Normally, my grades are fantastic. I expect A’s from myself, and always have, even when the green and red stars were enough for most of the kids. My first semester I walked out with a 3.75 GPA; not bad for a scared rural gal in the big bad city.

I guess I got too cocky. Maybe I should’ve asked more questions. Math has never been my specialty, and I never thought that I would cry over inequalities or even radicals. Yet, I’ve received quite the slap in the face. I’ve never had to repeat a class before. Nope. That’s not my style. But, when the autumn comes, I will face this math again. Not only will I face it, but you’re going to see an A. I may even buy myself a few sticker stars. Observe my motivation, my drive. Rowr! Hear me roar. See me cringe in fear...