Bombing Stats Exams and Learning Patience

I bombed my stats exam. Sixty-eight percent to be exact. That’s a B minus for those who are counting which I assure you…I am.

But it isn’t just the grade that is slowly eating away at the bare shreds of confidence I’ve managed to maintain the past few weeks. No, the grade sucks but is manageable.

What makes me want to drown myself in a vat of Cabernet Sauvignon is the fact that the mistakes I made were just so fucking stupid, like really painfully stupid. I misread at least three questions. I used cumulative frequency instead of relative frequency even though I wrote the formula out with f. In one I actually wrote down the right answer and circled the wrong.

And all of it was just because I rushed it. I wanted to get done with that god-damn exam so hard. I just sprinted through the entire thing, not checking my work and apparently not even taking time to read the questions.

It is not a new problem for me. I was often scolded in elementary school for the same thing. I would have all the right work and the wrong answer because I rushed the calculation. I remember one particular teacher saying “Nicole’s a smart little girl but she could use some patience.”

#FuckingPatience.

 

I’ve never had any. And apparently I still don’t. I rush through everything in life not just tests. Meetings, hikes, relationships, dinner, hair styles, love, I race through all of them, just wanting to get to the end, to see what it was all means, to get the final grade. Yet somehow the end point is never enough for me. So I rush on to whatever is next.

Every year I make a theme for that year. 2011 was optimism, 2012 courage. Back in January I decided 2013 was going to be the year of patience. Patience because I thought I would have to wait until April to get a yay or a nay on grad school. Instead I got my “you’re in” letter on 14 February and promptly got excited as heck and forgot all about patience as I rushed on to my new life.

And now here I am, staring patience right in its fucking serene face. He’s been waiting here for me all along. Patience knew exactly what I would need this year and he just waited calmly for me to catch up and smack right into him.

I guess the fact is it is time to learn to be patient; to open my stats book and read slowly and completely; to sit in lab and listen in utter confusion knowing someday I will understand; to run my 11 minute miles and enjoy every bouncy step; to be by myself and know that is better than being with someone not right for you; to write blogs no one reads hoping one day it will matter.

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