My $0.02

This is shaping up to be one for the ages. 

I wake up (late, of course), and proceed on my path to getting ready for the day. I put on some wonderfully mismatched clothes (because all of my clothes, naturally, are dirty). In preparation for my forthcoming math exam, I pull on my trusty Lucky Socks. They're black and green striped and say "Lucky Socks". They got me through the ACT, my AP tests, and countless other sticky situations.

Thusly armed, I make my way out to the shuttle stop. I'm running a bit late, but should still be able to make it to class on time. Typically it takes only 5 minutes max for a shuttle to come by the stop. Today, though, one of the shuttles saw it fit to break down right before our stop. That meant a 15 minute wait for another shuttle. Excellent. I'm late for class before I even board the bus.

Finally boarding the back-up shuttle, I make a grim realization: I had never finished the math assignment which was now due 5 minutes ago. (Don't ask me why teachers have homework assignments due the same day as an exam. Wouldn't they want to you spend your time studying?) I frantically pull out my notebook and begin scribbling down numbers and sketching 3D vector graphs. There was no hope of actually finishing, I was just trying to make it look like I had done some of the work.

We pull up to campus and I hop off the shuttle in a hurry. I look at my clock and figure that by the time I make it to class I'll be 15 minutes late. I quicken my pace, power walking in true Relief Society fashion. The weather was bright and sunny, so of course I had decided to wear a coat. Already flustered from being late and from power walking like a champion, I probably look like I have just run a marathon. I don't care, though. I have a test to take.

I march into the classroom. This is a little more intimidating than you would think; everyone is dead silent, bowed over their tests, and they all look up at mw simultaneously with bloodshot eyes. Eek. I throw my stuff down at the nearest available seat and dash to the front of the room to explain the broken shuttle situation to my professor. She's nice about it and hands me a test. (My theory now is that the only reason she was nice is because she knew the horror that was coming my way once she handed me the test.)

I return to my seat, pull out a pencil and my calculator, say a quick prayer, and begin the test. There are about 20 True/False questions at the beginning, but I usually skip those and start on the long problems. Ok, let's take a look at number 1... *blank stare* Ok, maybe number 2*blank stare* Moving on... number 3. *blank stare* What the heck is a parallelepipid?? *turns the page* Oh! I know how to do this one! *pause* Shoot. Never mind. 

You get the picture. This was one of those tests where you read through every question and want to cry when you discover you only know how to do one of them, and you're not even sure if you did it right. One of those tests that is nothing like the practice exam your professor gave to you. One of those tests where it seems you've studied all of the wrong things.

One of those tests.

Yes, today I was soundly defeated by my calc II exam. It's amazing the effect three pieces of paper can have on my outlook on life. I feel like there's nothing to do now but drown my sorrows in a gallon of Aggie Ice Cream. I also plan on burning my Lucky Socks tonight as a peace offering to the Gods of Calculus. Clearly I've done something to offend them.

...Oh, and to top it off, my roommate's alarm clock has been going off the entire time I've been typing this. 23 minutes of incessant BUZZing. Life is good.

The only redeeming quality of this day is that there are only 8 days and 7 hours til the Coldplay concert.