This ain't no post about rainbows

Last Monday, I came home in tears, defeated by my French class, yet again.

Monday I had gotten back my first essay and let's just say my prof decorated it really pretty with all kinds of red lines, circles and question marks.

Poof . . . my fragile ego, much like a balloon, popped and deflated taking with it my confidence, determination and every ounce of the enthusiasm I had had up until that point.

Thankfully, my professor waited to give me my paper AFTER I had taken the oral portion of my first exam. Yet, the news of my poor grade was still not opportune as I still had to go to the testing center and take the written portion.

I wanted to quit. This is too hard!!! I am sick of it all!!! Homework, essays, tests, all of it!!! I wanted to take this foreign language and it's travaille (work) and shove it!

I kept it together as my professor explained to me my mistakes. I faked a smile, thanked her before I left and agreed to take another stab at a rewrite this weekend. But by the time I got to my car all my anger was replaced by discouragement. I was soon reduced to tears. My emotions wavered between fighting mad and borderline depressed.

I kept asking myself on the way home, how long is it going to take before French sinks in? Or will I sink first?

As I drove home, I let the tears and self-loathing flow. Lines from Forrest Gump were rambling in my head . . ."are you dumb Gump or just plain stupid?" This time, when I came back with "Stupid is as stupid does, sir," I wasn't laughing.

When I got home, Daren was still home. Secretly I was relieved he was there, but more than anything I was embarrassed; crying over a bad grade on a paper? what a girl!

I rallied, pulled it together and thought I could pull off the great con but instead, when he asked me what was wrong, I broke down and sobbed like a baby.

What am I doing? I asked him. Why does it matter at this point in my life if I graduate from college?

Daren, very wise, just listened and said nothing. Instead, he offered to give me a blessing.

In that blessing, I was reminded of the fact that I am a child of God. I am not stupid. One bad grade does not define me or my abilities. Perspective, fresh courage take . . .work hard, have determination; they were like lines from a pioneer song. This is life folks. We learn. We try; sometimes we fail, but most importantly, we don't give up.

Alright. I shook off the overwhelming urge to quit. I let go of the personal demons that had me pretty convinced I would be able begin the next week with all the new fall line up on television. Nope. I was going to finish this darn degree. I was going to learn this French, even if it kills me trying. Grateful for TIVO, I rolled up my sleeves and got back to work.

I studied and reviewed before I took my written test.

I rewrote my paper.

I found a new tutor. She is free and I don't have to clean her house to work with her. I like how much free costs. She is nice. She reviewed verbs with me and kindly looked over my rewrite.

Today, I went to class. I got my test back. Guess what, I got a B. I felt pretty good. But, I already knew that things were going to be okay.