Tomorrow's a big day and for the first time in 4 years I've been able to finally think about something else other than social work (what I'm currently studying) or the mastery of French. As for the former, tomorrow I find out if I managed to get my degree and can accept a job that will hire me on the condition of getting it, or if I didn't and have to figure out what that next step is. And as for the latter, this one's a constant and I don't know if I'll ever stop learning (not to mention that I truly started learning at the age of 32, junior high school only taught me the numbers and basic greetings).
I can't sleep because tomorrow I'll know my fate. I'm afraid that it wasn't enough, that my last-ditch effort to write my thesis or to do a last-minute presentation to lift my grade was all for naught. I'm afraid that I'll have to tell my loved ones that I failed again. I hate failing. As your standard overachiever as a kid, good grades came easily. I never had to make much of an effort and it was only until college that I really learned what it meant to study, to figure out ways of retaining knowledge for the exams, to make effort. During my time in school now, I've gotten the lowest grades I've ever gotten in my life. I got a 3 out of 20, 10 is passing, I've never gotten such a low grade while actually making a genuine effort. This experience has been humbling and maybe I needed that to remind me that I'm not perfect, I'm not as intelligent as I think I am, I still have a long way to go. I also learned that what I've done, even just getting to this point, is still an accomplishment. It's nothing to be ashamed of, I'm studying in a language I didn't speak at all 10 years ago and I'm at a point where I might get my degree here in France.
Spoiler alert: I got my degree and the job I wanted.
