Despicable Me

I realize prestige is not the solution to happiness, but sometimes it still hurts when we know we could have done better. 

I looked at my midterm score. And all I have to say is, "Sigh...I guess I deserve it."

I told you before I didn't feel like studying. After all, it was the truth. Unfortunately, my lack of studying inevitably led to a poor score. And I mean, poor. I was sad when I saw it staring back at me on the computer screen, and my conscience felt perturbed. "Really, Katie? I know you didn't want to study, but how could you let this happen? How could you let yourself just...fail? Why did you quit?" I've tried to answer these questions all day.

- - - - -
It was about a year and a half ago when I took Nutrition 100--for "fun." I remember the first week of class vividly. The first day I sat near the front of the room, ready to learn whatever I could. The syllabus was only slightly intimidating, so despite any worries, I was excited for the challenge. My naivety didn't last long. It only took two or three readings before I realized what I'd gotten myself into. Nutrition 100 was not about learning how to eat right or healthy. No, no. Nutrition 100 was literally about all aspects of nutrition; meaning, the science behind food. Science and chemistry? Yuck. I guess what I should say is, that's not what I was expecting. (What I should have done that semester was enroll in a HEPE class, or something revolving around healthy living).

Anyway, I basically ended up failing almost every test. (I wish you could have seen me take the final. I skimmed through all 100 questions so that I could meet my friend and his parents for breakfast at Kneaders). My excuse was that I simply didn't want to sacrifice my time and other heavy responsibilities in exchange for an excellent grade. After all, at the time I was in an Upper Division Honors writing course (and I really wanted to perfect that class); I was working as brand new Writing Fellow (a writing tutor to 15 students throughout the whole semester. Again, I really wanted to be good at that, too); I was also taking chemistry (which has always been the demise of my academic experience); I was serving as the co-chair of my ward activities committee (that includes planning a big ward activity every other week); I was working as Lab Assistant in the HLRC; I was starting my editing minor; I was in the BYU Symphony (which required even more practice time than I predicted); I was finishing my advertising program application; I was running 10 miles a week (too bad I'm not doing that now), and....the list goes on. I haven't even mentioned all the emotional crap (forgive my French) that I was experiencing at the time. Suffice it to say, I was one busy girl. So it's obvious why Nutrition 100, which according to my presumptions was supposed to be a delightful and leisurely elective, was instantly shifted to the back burner. Sadly, that class is one that should never take second priority simply because of ALL the content students are expected to memorize.

If I had been a gung-ho freshman who knew from the get-go that she wanted to be a nutritionist, then sure, I would have been an amazing over-zealous student who would have memorized flash cards night and day with little sleep. But I'm just going to be honest: I was not going to give this one class, especially a class that I didn't have to take, that much devotion. I just could not believe the nutrition department would expect me to memorize all the information they had outlined. Sorry, folks. I'm just one girl with too much to do. As you can guess, my decision led to low test scores, little knowledge about nutrition, and one frustrated girl.

I was upset by the time the semester ended. I was mad at myself for not doing well (even though I had decided very early on that I wasn't willing to do the work) and I was upset over the fact that I couldn't just be smart and excel based on my natural intellect. On the last day of finals, I swore to myself that I would never take another elective just for "fun." Obviously, these were just overreactions for what I was really feeling. On the inside, I was greatly disappointed. I was hurt by the fact that I had not taken better consideration of my limits and the hell I put myself through that semester. I completely disregarded any concept of balance, and this led to some emotional and intellectual destruction (Forgive me, I'm a bit melodramatic).

You'd think that, after such a grueling semester, I'd learn my lesson about being cautious of the responsibilities I accept and the expectations I hold. Alas, I am a slow learner. Seven days after finishing my last final, I started another term. Overbooking myself as usual.

- - - - -
Work felt really long today; probably because I was dwelling on the reasons for doing so badly on my midterm.

It's not like I haven't ever received a bad grade before. I can assure you that even though I seem like a GPA Nazi, I'm really...not (well, maybe just tiny bit). Don't get me wrong, I expect high standards of my academic performance, but I believe more in doing the very best I can.

But sometimes,

I feel just too darn worn out to do my best, as was the case yesterday--and pretty much this whole summer term. I feel unsettled and exhausted, which is a stark contrast to my general feelings during Spring Term. Marketing 340 was just a requirement for my major. I didn't want to take that class. And my internship is simply a means to an end. How did I let this happen?! Or better yet, why am I denying the fact that I chose this path for the summer? 

OK. I admit, when I made the decision to take classes all summer long and work in the Ad Lab and perform an internship, I believed I knew what I was doing. My intentions were to finish the last requirements for my undergrad so that by the time Fall semester rolled around, I would be able to explore new passions and areas of interest. Maybe I've just temporarily lost my vision. I let myself believe there was no point to my marketing class or internship except to get me one step closer to graduation. Oh, how I've perceived my summer term with an entirely incorrect map.

- - - - -

"Please play F minor." 

It was a hot evening in Gilbert, Arizona, and I was standing in a high school classroom in front of a room divider. On one side was lonely me, with only a black music stand and three All State excerpts to keep me company. On the other side sat three judges--the very people who would determine my musical fate. It was my senior year of high school, and this was the last chance I'd get to try and make All State. 

OK. I can do this. I think to myself. I've practiced this scale over, and over, and over again. It's practically programmed into my fingers.

I play the scale. It felt flawless, except for when I missed the second shift down ever so slightly. I always miss that shift. 

"Thank you!" They call out. Oh...what does thank you even mean in an audition? Thanks for showing up? Thanks for trying? Thanks but no thanks? C'mon people! I need more affirmation than that. 

"Now, please play the first excerpt." 

I play as my fingers gradually becoming more and more nervous. 

"And now the second excerpt." 

Again, I play. All the while my nerves are not soothing.

"Now, play the last except." 

OK. the last excerpt. I'm almost done. I can't wait to get out of this room. Please, oh please let me do well on the last excerpt. 

I begin to play. All seems to be going well. My fingers are in place, my bow is positioned correctly, my tone sounds fine, my strings are in tune. What could possibly go wrong? As I approach the middle of the except, my mind begins to play, too. Except my thoughts aren't nearly as in place as my physical technique. 

Holy cow. You can't do this. You've never made All State. What makes you think you could do it now? You should just stop playing. It's not worth it. You don't really want to be in All State anyway. All your friends think your too nerdy as it is for spending so much time studying and playing your instruments. Why don't you just relax and enjoy yourself? 

My thoughts were so devastating. And so distracting. By the end of the last excerpt I could hardly muster the will to finish the audition. I stumbled through the last couple measures, read my sight reading piece and upon hearing the judges dismissal, ran out of the class room. As I walked into the hall I could see all the other violinists waiting to play the exact same pieces I had just massacred. They probably practiced so much more than I did. I bet they'll get in. You're not like them. You'll never be as dedicated or serious about your music. 

The results of the All State Auditions came. I was not accepted. Surprise, surprise. My score wasn't incredibly far from the cut-off, but I definitely had no chance of being an alternate. I sat in the orchestra room for a long time that day. I believe I even teared up, though that's not really a surprise to me. For four years I had wanted to be in the All State orchestra, yet every time I auditioned, something would happen and I would choke. Usually I would begin to get distracted a few weeks before the audition, and I would let myself choose frivolous activities over hardcore practice sessions. And when the moment of the audition came calling, I would always freeze up and let my negative thoughts take over. 

- - - - -

I think the reason for the poor performance in my marketing class revolves around a couple of points. First is my need to constantly overwhelm myself with responsibilities. I'm afraid to sit still, even though calmness is what I crave most. I also like to feel important, and needed. And since I'm usually too afraid to invest in close relationships, I fill my voids by stuffing my schedule full of jobs, classes and church callings. It sounds dismal, I know. Second, I have a tendency to give up the closer and closer I move toward success, or the harder and harder success is to attain. I suppose it's the perfectionist in me who says, "either you're all in, or you're not in at all. If you can't be perfect or the best at it, then why should you even bother?" I know. Super harsh, huh? It's a horrible perception of the world, and it's a negative force I've had to battle ever since I can remember. Just like that All State audition, sometimes, the negativity is just too overwhelming.

- - - - -
I've always wondered what it might have been like to actually let myself enjoy a summer vacation, to stop myself from enrolling in classes and just relax for a few months. I don't even remember what it's like to have summer vacation. The last time I would have had one was the summer of 2006. Looking back, that was a great three months: EFY, California, Girls Camp, Youth Conference at Mama's Ranch, babysitting the Arnetts.

I imagine that if I were to have an another summer vacation, I would read lots of books. I love the idea of letting my feet hang over the sofa as I become captivated in some Jane Austen novels or another type of romantic fiction. I'd also indulge in some good historical fiction, and some Stephen R. Covey (I'm crazy about his philosophies right now...). I'd run every morning, and hopefully travel. I'd also make time to cook delicious, healthy recipes. I've always wanted to master all the dishes in the Eat Clean cook book. Ooo, I'd also get lots of massages, hike in the mountains, take lots of pictures, watch plenty of movies, and hang out with my girlfriends.

Oh summer. Will I ever take time to enjoy your company?

- - - - -
As far as this summer term is concerned, I knew I wanted to finish up my advertising requirements so that I could use Fall semester to focus on my capstones and put some attention in subjects that have recently sparked my interest. Doesn't that all sound so practical? But my marketing class ended up requiring more of my precious time than I expected. With all the other responsibilities I had going on, I naturally let the class roll toward the back burner, and before I knew it, I was failing midterm examinations. I ask myself why this happened. And the answer is simple. I made a choice. Instead of realizing that the class might actually demand more sacrifice from me, I decided to to overflow my schedule, yet again. More importantly, I chose to do what I thought was strategic rather than what was best for me as a whole. My soul needs rejuvenation, yet I lack enough self-respect to use my time wisely by giving myself sincere episodes of relaxation.

I hope the day will come when I actually believe it when say that being the busiest doesn't make me the happiest. And I hope I figure this out before I end up as a 26-year-old women suffering from a mid-life crisis. I don't want my worth to be dependent upon academic success or career prestige. I just want to be me. Sometimes that means being a studious person. Sometimes it means staying up till wee hours of the morning talking to close friends about big questions. Other times, it means being really outgoing and social at ward functions. And sometimes, it even means just relaxing at home with people I love and care about.

The past two days have been rather humbling, to say the least. I'm not as smart as I think I am.  There were plenty of times throughout the term when I thought to myself, "I'm an advertising major, so I don't need to study all this marketing stuff. It should just come naturally to me." Clearly, I was in the wrong. Also, I sure am not as centered on correct principles as I assumed. I care way to much about people's approval, and when I don't get it, I ache for affirmation--yet another pathetic insight from personal reflection. I still believe in doing the best I can to reap the rewards of a BYU education, but I also hope that next time I do poorly in a class, it doesn't cause such an emotional earthquake. God loves me no matter how well or how badly I do in a marketing class. But he does care about my character and my happiness. I'm just beginning to realize what those two concepts might entail.

"Let us then labor for an inward stillness,
an inward stillness and an inward healing;
That perfect silence where the lips and heart are still,
and we no longer entertain our own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions,
But God alone speaks in us, and we wait
In singleness of heart, the we may know
His will, and in silence of our spirits,
That we may do His will, and do that only."

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 
(Thank you to my dear friend for sharing this poem with me oh so many months previous to this post).