Ah, college. How I loathe thee. Just kidding. I actually like you, when you're over and I am looking back at you instead of wading through you.

Another semester's grades are in, and I'm ecstatic to report a 4.0 for the term. Unfortunately, a dastardly A-  or two have stained my report cards in the past. Current overall GPA= 3.9835. Technically it still rounds up to a 4.0. That's how I comfort myself.

Yes, I come from two parents who accept nothing but straight As. Some may think it is expecting too much, but my father would shrug and say, "I only expect perfection." In fact, to literally quote my father in our conversation today, "None of those nasty A-'s for Pearsons." He said it with a chuckle, so I didn't bother reminding him that I am no longer a Pearson {or that I did get 2 while I was still a Pearson}. Minor details.

And so ends what is supposed to be the semester with the hardest class load. 19 credits closer to wearing that cap and gown {and having an excuse to get my hair all prettied up}.

Report cards remind me why I spend so much time studying. I remember now; it's for this feeling which embodies a happy dance.

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