The end of an Era

I'm kind of surprised at how blandly this semester ended. There was no freaking out, no vomiting blood, no super stress...nothing really. Maybe it was because I was only taking 12 credit hours or maybe it's because I actually did the work.

I had to go to my Polish professor's office today during our exam block in order to turn in my brief essay on myself and complete the oral part of the exam. I walked in and recited the poem that had been burned into my memory throughout the semester and, in Polish, proceeded to recount the events of this morning when I was a little hungover, how I tried to remedy the situation, and what I planned to do now that I was done for the semester.

I apparently did very well and my teacher went on to tell me that I "made that class," and not just for her, but for the other students as well. I was the one who always came in there with stories, random comments during the lesson, and my offbeat sense of humor that seemed to work well with the hodgepodge of people in my class. I can't wait to see the video now. My professor said that I was great in it and that "the hand kissing was amazing." I love pretending to be the stereotypical French pervert.

It's sad to think that I am done with taking Polish class, but I guess we all encounter sad truths during our lives. As the grades now begin to roll in I've been assured that I can get nothing less than an A in Polish. Too bad my good grades will have to stand next to that atrocious looking W.