Oh dear.

There's finally a gradebook for my programming class, and it appears I'm doing slightly less than well.

Worse -- the final day to drop was yesterday. Dumbass me for not checking the class website more often.

Oh well. Even if I fail... I've failed a programming class before. And then the next time I had a go at it I got one of the highest grades in the class. So not the end of the world.

Mecha's just going to kill me. sorry mecha.

This has been the Semester From Hell all around -- incredible levels of stress over one thing after another, self-esteem at a near-all-time low and self-hatred at probably an all-time high, all those awful headaches I was having until recently -- frankly if it only makes me fail ONE class I will count myself lucky.

It's sad when I have to justify failing like this.

(no subject)

My last entry is a lie. Everything is ruined. Ruined. I've destroyed my entire future by not bothering to show up to this fucking class enough.

Why I have not yet done myself a favor and joined the Ballantine Diving Team¹ is beyond me.

1: People like to throw themselves from the high floors of Ballantine on an oddly regular basis. It seems a toss-up whether you suffer for a while or just snuff it on impact. I would hope I would be among the former. I deserve it.