We all know Berkeley students are obsessed with getting that A, but the fact is, and most of you have probably figured this out by now, Cal is hard. Our classes are extremely rigorous and the truth is, most of us have to lower our standards to the B range. Or even the C. We’re not judging. But being the driven students we are, it’s normal to grieve over the lost A before moving on. The Black Sheep brings you a breakdown of the grieving process.
Okay you know what? I could still do this. I could get an A in CS 61b. If the final is 40% of the grade then I only have to get… let me see… 114% on the final! I can do that… maybe there’s extra credit. Okay okay, what about an A-? That’s much more manageable. Nope nope, still need a 107% on the final. Okay okay, I’ll go to the professor’s office hours, professor what’s-his-name. Fuck, you know, the one with the glasses and middle-age gut. Shit, that’s all of them. Well, anyway, I’ll go to office hours. He’ll see I’m a responsible, engaged student. He’ll take pity.
I HATE THIS SCHOOL. WHY IS IT SO HARD?! I SHOULD’VE GONE TO FUCKING CHICO STATE. MY PROFESSORS ARE LEGIT SADISTS. WHY CAN’T CAL JUST GIVE US ALL As LIKE HARVARD OR STANFORD?? TO HELL WITH ACADEMIC INTEGRITY. I’M BREAKING INTO MIKE MEIGHAN’S OFFICE LIKE FUCKING MISSION IMPOSSIBLE AND STEALING THE ANSWERS AND I’M GOING TO STEAL HIS WALLET NEXT TIME I GET THE CHANCE.
Alright, I’ll become a stripper. No, no I’ll run trivia night at Kip’s, that’s a sweet gig. I’ll just try to not need health insurance. Ever. Okay no, no, new plan. I study for, like, eight hours straight. That should influence my fate with the grade gods. Yeah? You get out what you put in? I’ll bring a sleeping bag to Moffitt. I’ll be one of those kids. Hell, I’ll bring a fucking tent and canned beans if it makes me look dedicated.
It’s over. I’m dropping out. It’s all useless. Hopeless. Take me now.
You know what? I am more than just a number! I count… ha ha, but seriously, I do! My self-worth extends beyond my academic success. I didn’t fail, that’s something. Yeah… and you know what else? I deserve to celebrate, to go out. Yeah, I should reward myself, positive reinforcement and all that… A beer or two or eight at Tap Haus should suffice. RAGE!!!
Rage away and Go Bears.
You went drinking, now you’re stuck pooping. How’s that going for ya?