I rocked the casbah on my art history midterm on Friday.
That’s right. Rocked. The casbah.
Life has been a whirlwind surrounding that midterm. I spent every free moment I had between last Saturday and Friday making and studying flash cards for that test. While I was making dinner, while I was running on the treadmill, while I was brushing my teeth, while I was watching the Mets lose, while I was not sleeping on the subway, those flashcards were all but glued to my hands.
And during the exam, it took every bit of restraint I had not to jump up after every slide he showed on the screen, pump my fist in the air, and yell out, “FUCK YEAH!” I don’t often get nervous before tests, but this one scared the shit out of me. Because when your professor hands you a list of 60 works of art you’ve never seen before and tells you you’re responsible to know the titles, artists, dates, and locations of all those works, AND be prepared to discuss those works and their meanings, wouldn’t you get a little nervous too? Yeah, maybe it’s just me. But still. I walked out of that test feeling like a million dollars.
And so of course I had to celebrate. I’ve been celebrating all weekend. And now it’s really time to get back to reality, because I have a Spanish midterm coming up on Tuesday that I probably should at least open a book for ahead of time.
This week, I’ve been tired, but happy. This is all so new to me, this feeling of being tired, but happy. For me, being tired is usually synonymous with being depressed. But now, I’m tired because I’m doing things that I love. I feel like a dog whose owner has FINALLY taken her outside to play ball for about six hours straight after ten years of being ignored. I’m so happy, but I’m just laying in a heap on the floor until I can regain my senses and go back for more.
Yes, I have just compared myself to a dog. That’s right, I’m a BITCH, bitch! But I’m a bitch who knows her art history. And THAT is something.