And then came week two.
Week two was rough; I'm not going to lie. There was a LOT of reading. Online and in the books. There were a bunch of exercises due. There was a grammar quiz and a biology project...it sucked. I was staying up entirely too late every night to keep things moving along. On top of that, none of the work from the previous week had been graded yet. So while I thought I did okay the first week, I couldn't be 100% sure.
And then oh boy. Then the grammar teacher started posting warning notices to the class at large. Notices that a third of the class had not turned in their assignment yet. Notices that some of those who had had used the wrong format when saving their files. Notices that there were several of us who were starting the term at a loss because of stupid errors. (Okay, she didn't say "stupid". That is me editorializing for dramatic effect.) Notices that let us all know that any assignment that was late due to being in the wrong format would still be getting an "F" even if it had been "turned in" on time. I started to get a little concerned. Why? Well, because that is what I do.
So one early morning (except it was really late at night because I had not been to bed yet) I tried, once again, to check my grade on my grammar assignment. It still wasn't there. So I figured that I would double-check the attachment. You know, just to make sure that I had saved it correctly when I submitted it the day before it was due. Nine days earlier. I login to the classroom, click on portfolio, click on the assignment in question...
WRONG FORMAT WRONG FORMAT WRONG FORMAT! ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Those were pretty much my exact words. You know, minus the intense cussing and sobs that occurred in real life.
I e-mailed the teacher. No cussing, but definitely hysterical. I saved the cussing for the e-mail that I sent to Jason. (He happened to be working a night shift that night and was not home to witness the hysteria that ensued.) It was, without a doubt, the absolute cussingest e-mail I have ever written. So much so that I just invented "cussingest" as a way to describe it because people? There were no words to describe the foulness of that e-mail. It was that bad.
And then I waited. My teacher is in a different time zone and it was the weekend. So I had to sit around and try to figure out whether to take myself out of the class in an attempt to preserve my GPA or if I would be able to do well enough the rest of the class to make up for this colossal error. It was a rough 36 hours. And here's part of the e-mail she sent me:
I am not sure what to say to you, though, about your assignments, as everything you've turned in has been turned in both on time AND in the proper format. This should help you feel better? No worries there.I've highlighted the important part but I'm pretty sure that the last sentence there is her way of asking me if I need some kind of drug therapy. You know, or a referral to a really great shrink. Shock treatments? Something. I have no idea now what made me think that I had screwed up the format. I think the "3 am" thing may have had something to do with it. The fact that it was the third 3 am I had seen in a row probably didn't help. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
So far, I think you are doing just fine in our class. You do good work, and you submit it when it is due. Are there any other concerns that I can help you with or work together with you on?
To top it off, I got an "A" on the assignment in question. And the professor asked me if she could post it as an example of an "A" paper for the rest of the class. I told her yes, of course. If for no other reason than I'm happy she didn't ask to post my e-mail as a fine example of neurosis!