I’m the poster child for bad study habits. I think it’s in my DNA. I’m perfectly intelligent and do well in school, but how I’ve managed not to fail a class so far is some sort of miracle, like people who claim to see Jesus’ face in their grilled-cheese sandwich or something like that. It’s a mystery.
Studying and I have a complicated relationship. We first met back when homework got a little heavier, you know, middle school and then high school. There was a lot of flirting and even more mixed messages. I think Studying really liked me and wanted to take our relationship to the next level (actually doing my homework on time), but I wasn’t ready for that sort of a commitment. Studying keeps sending me flowers and chocolates and teddy bears and love poems, but I keep stealthily avoiding it. Studying just doesn’t get the message. I’m not that into it.
I do flirt occasionally, just for kicks. I’ll review my notes or read in the textbook like we’re supposed to, and Studying gets all excited, thinking I’m interested. My attention span cuts off pretty soon, though. I’d rather undergo a root canal without anesthesia than attempt to retain information about the Middle Ages. Who wouldn’t?
As a result, I would get mediocre scores on my assignments and quizzes, and then scramble to do a bunch of extra credit assignments before the term ends so I could pull my grades up. For a while, it worked quite well. I don’t think I did half an hour of homework my entire first semester of ninth grade. Then came the problem.
Studying was become an abusive boyfriend and I was about ready to file a restraining order. When we were studying French royalty in my history class, we got an assignment to watch a video that had to do with the subject and write a report about it. We were given a list of movies that would work and were told that it was due the next week.
Studying kept harassing me, and I kept avoiding it. I knew I needed to do the report, but figured I’d make something up last minute.
“Last minute” came in the form of the morning the assignment was due. That’s when I learned that it was worth one-third of our final grade. Uh-oh. This could be bad.
I looked at the list of movies and picked one. It was called Mrs. Morrison’s Ghosts. I had no idea what it was about specifically, but I later learned that it was a movie about two scholarly women who visit the palace Versailles in France. Not knowing this, my report went something like this:
In the romance “Mrs. Morrison’s Ghosts”, a woman named Mrs. Morrison, who works as a gardener at Versailles in the late 1600’s, must face the ghosts of her past as he prepares for her secret wedding to a French King. The movie highlights her tumultuous romance with the King and the scandal that ensues when the Queen finds out, and forces Mrs. Morrison to paint every rose in the garden red every day for the rest of her life as punishment. However, the King dies on a tragic ship accident in the Atlantic Ocean one week later, after being framed for jewel robbery. Learning to fit in with her fellow gardeners after this tragic fate, Mrs. Morrison realizes that we’re all different and we see people as we want to see them, and you should never assume that someone is a nerd, because they may be hiding a flare gun in their tool shed. All the while, Mrs. Morrison tries to give weight-gain bars to a rival to make said rival gain weight, as well as other mean antics, while trying to fit in with the popular crowd.
How I managed to combine Alice in Wonderland, Titanic, The Breakfast Club, and Mean Girls into a report about a Versailles period drama and expected to get a decent grade is beyond me, but after I got a big red “F” on the top of my assignment, I realized that I would have to face the facts: Even if I didn’t like studying, we were meant to be together, like Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, or Alice and the Mad Hatter. (Well, they never actually got together, but I always thought they’d make a cute couple.) It was fate, whether I liked it or not.
Studying and I have been working out our problems, getting advice from marriage counselors (read: parent-teacher conferences), and realizing that we need each other to survive. My grades have since improved, though I hate to admit it. Studying and I are spending quality time together, and I’m beginning to realize that maybe this relationship isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
Studying and I have a complicated relationship. We first met back when homework got a little heavier, you know, middle school and then high school. There was a lot of flirting and even more mixed messages. I think Studying really liked me and wanted to take our relationship to the next level (actually doing my homework on time), but I wasn’t ready for that sort of a commitment. Studying keeps sending me flowers and chocolates and teddy bears and love poems, but I keep stealthily avoiding it. Studying just doesn’t get the message. I’m not that into it.
I do flirt occasionally, just for kicks. I’ll review my notes or read in the textbook like we’re supposed to, and Studying gets all excited, thinking I’m interested. My attention span cuts off pretty soon, though. I’d rather undergo a root canal without anesthesia than attempt to retain information about the Middle Ages. Who wouldn’t?
As a result, I would get mediocre scores on my assignments and quizzes, and then scramble to do a bunch of extra credit assignments before the term ends so I could pull my grades up. For a while, it worked quite well. I don’t think I did half an hour of homework my entire first semester of ninth grade. Then came the problem.
Studying was become an abusive boyfriend and I was about ready to file a restraining order. When we were studying French royalty in my history class, we got an assignment to watch a video that had to do with the subject and write a report about it. We were given a list of movies that would work and were told that it was due the next week.
Studying kept harassing me, and I kept avoiding it. I knew I needed to do the report, but figured I’d make something up last minute.
“Last minute” came in the form of the morning the assignment was due. That’s when I learned that it was worth one-third of our final grade. Uh-oh. This could be bad.
I looked at the list of movies and picked one. It was called Mrs. Morrison’s Ghosts. I had no idea what it was about specifically, but I later learned that it was a movie about two scholarly women who visit the palace Versailles in France. Not knowing this, my report went something like this:
In the romance “Mrs. Morrison’s Ghosts”, a woman named Mrs. Morrison, who works as a gardener at Versailles in the late 1600’s, must face the ghosts of her past as he prepares for her secret wedding to a French King. The movie highlights her tumultuous romance with the King and the scandal that ensues when the Queen finds out, and forces Mrs. Morrison to paint every rose in the garden red every day for the rest of her life as punishment. However, the King dies on a tragic ship accident in the Atlantic Ocean one week later, after being framed for jewel robbery. Learning to fit in with her fellow gardeners after this tragic fate, Mrs. Morrison realizes that we’re all different and we see people as we want to see them, and you should never assume that someone is a nerd, because they may be hiding a flare gun in their tool shed. All the while, Mrs. Morrison tries to give weight-gain bars to a rival to make said rival gain weight, as well as other mean antics, while trying to fit in with the popular crowd.
How I managed to combine Alice in Wonderland, Titanic, The Breakfast Club, and Mean Girls into a report about a Versailles period drama and expected to get a decent grade is beyond me, but after I got a big red “F” on the top of my assignment, I realized that I would have to face the facts: Even if I didn’t like studying, we were meant to be together, like Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, or Alice and the Mad Hatter. (Well, they never actually got together, but I always thought they’d make a cute couple.) It was fate, whether I liked it or not.
Studying and I have been working out our problems, getting advice from marriage counselors (read: parent-teacher conferences), and realizing that we need each other to survive. My grades have since improved, though I hate to admit it. Studying and I are spending quality time together, and I’m beginning to realize that maybe this relationship isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
CanadianRose
Jubilex
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