We're down to the final push for this semester. Final exams are three weeks away, yet I still have three more "midterm" exams to write. Marks are trickling in and are, for the most part, encouraging. However, the first Java midterm left us all shell-shocked and bleeding from the ears and nose; the class average was 47%. Although I got 55%, that's hardly a mark to be proud of and it might prevent me from making the Dean's List this semester, even though all my other marks are high enough (so far.) I can't believe I'm holding myself to that standard, but, well, here we are. (The prof says he'll bell-curve those mid-term results. That will bring me up a bit.)
I'm tired and crabby. Schoolwork occupies 80% of my waking hours, and a good portion of my sleeping ones, too... I wake throughout the night with snippets of code in my head, working through complex coding problems in my dreams and waking with solutions in the morning. While I admire my subconscious minds' tenacity in problem solving, perhaps I would feel more rested in the morning if I could switch off for a few hours.
While I am still really enjoying the program and the fabulous new skills I am developing, I just wish it wasn't so all-consuming. Those three weeks off between semesters that I have coming up suddenly seem not nearly long enough.
The third semester will be interesting; one less course on my load but correspondingly more homework as the levels become more difficult. As well, there will be preparation for the co-op term, which starts in January and goes until my final semester in September. The co-op term will probably be more restful, except I am an over-achiever and have decided to take night classes while working. The fun class will be more garment sewing lessons; I want to get into ballroom dance costuming and need considerably more skills than I have right now.
The "grit my teeth and do it" class is... French. God help me. I freaking HATE French and hate how it's rammed down my throat and hung over my head, but in order to get my foot in the door at any primo Fed job, I need to improve my oral French skills. (And as clever husband pointed out, I never actually have to speak it on the job... just prove I can by obtaining my profile.)
le sigh. There is no-one in the world who can be as hard on me as I can.