la lumière au bout du tunnel

The past three nights, I kept having the same dream.

My problems with my psychology grade were plaguing me even in my sleep. I'd dream of meeting my elusive professor, whether in the EMT classroom where I waited to take my TSOPS exams or on the sidewalk on East Campus. I'd dream that we'd come to a negotiation -- and interestingly, I always dreamed that things would turn in my favor.

I noticed other recurring trends. During these dreams, I was conscious that I was dreaming. I knew that I would wake up in a few minutes or hours and be sorely disappointed by the fact that it was only a dream. And yet I would keep dreaming anyway. Because I didn't want to wake up.

Today, it finally happened. It scares me how easily this could have ended differently. The professor hadn't responded to either of the e-mails I had sent. Gradyl's sister had helped me out by calling my professor's office and leaving a message under my name, since I was too afraid to call. There were no office hours listed on the syllabus. I was returning to the library after returning my bike keys to the Outpost -- and I literally had one foot headed in the direction of the library entrance before I swiveled back onto the path and headed towards the Psychology building.

I was already one step from walking away. I could have easily walked back to the library and none of it would have happened.

I walked up all the countless stairs. I didn't expect anything, and yet I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to do when, to my surprise, the door to his office was open. I had to stand in the hall for minutes, thinking about what I was going to do.

I won't discuss what exactly occurred during our conversation -- much of it was me being very timid and him giving me sagely advice about how to approach professors and how to negotiate with them in the future. All I will tell you (since none of my readers are Duke students, I'm at liberty to disclose this information) is that I was able to negotiate raising my B to an A-.

A part of me is wondering what other directions this conversation could have gone. For much of the conversation, we were talking as if I was trying to bring my grade up from a B to an A -- and he kept asking me what I would propose to do as an exchange to raise my grade. We weren't getting anywhere -- I suppose I should have thought it out beforehand -- until I told him that I would be satisfied getting full credit on the second discussion and thus raising my grade to an A-. I acknowledged that I had made a mistake and it would not be unfair if I received some punishment for not following the directions that 75 percent of the class had managed to do.

And so, my final grade for the class is an A-. I do not have to take the final exam tomorrow (which I unfortunately spent most of my morning studying for) because five points won't bring my grade from an A- to an A. I wonder if I could have effectively negotiated my way to an A. But a part of me thinks the result is fair. Some people do not have this conscience, but while I would be happy that my grade has been completely salvaged, I would also probably feel guilty if I walked away from the mistake with an A.

And that's how the story ends. For Psychology 11, at least.

On another note, I am having my own new thoughts about religion. I have not been involved in IV very much these days. Part of it has been the fact that I've placed other commitments before it. But here is the other thing.

When I cried on the phone to my mother on Wednesday night, she kept telling me how to say this one Buddhist prayer. She made sure I knew how to pronounce all the words and told me to use it as a way to meditate and calm myself down. After our call ended, she phoned my maternal grandmother and told her to pray for me. My mother, who has not been entirely religious at home, prayed for me the whole night. She sent me two e-mails in the span of a day, telling me not to give up and to have confidence in myself.

I don't know if I believe in prayers. But what I do know is that I passed my EMT exams and my psychology crisis has been resolved.

I didn't go to Large Group that Friday. My excuse to my IV friends was that after talking to my mother on the phone, I had decided I would devote the evening to studying. The only person I confided the truth to was E, that with my grandmother and mother praying for me to Buddha, there was no way I could go to a Christian worship without feeling despicable.

I really don't know.

I see the light at the end of tunnel. I want to go home so badly. I miss you all.