My three years at university were, most probably, the best three years of my life. I've met some of the most fantastic people I ever though possible and learnt so much in regards to my own writing that what I wrote four years ago is nothing to what I write now.
Now, I'm my worst critic. I always try on being the best of my abilities in everything that I do... But I'm not pompous. It's a quality that I think makes a lot of people very vulgar and ugly. So, let's hope that I don't sound too much of a hypocrite here...
I attained a grade 2:1 at university. And regrettably, I was disppointed. My final portfolios were the best I'd been able to muster. The weekend the final Media and Writing assignments were in, I probably had a total of approx. seven hours sleep over three days. I was in the computer block on campus every day for two weeks, becoming part of the furniture myself. My lack of sleep left me horribly forgetting my friends and 'upgrading' them with doing final pieces of work on my portfolio. I was bleary-eyed for ten days, pale-skinned from lack of seeing the sun outside and therefore, didn't want to see those portfolios back for the rest of my life...
My 2:1 grade was greeted with half-hearted smiles at the bus stop where my mum had brought it down to me, she was eager to see what I'd got. On being phoned up by other course friends, I wasn't very talkative on my grade, which led to lies on both halves of being 'too boggled and modest' to brag about it.
But at the time (and for a good few weeks after), I believed that I had been cheated. I should have got a 1st. I should have got top of the class. All my life I've been in second place, I was getting myself into debt for this chance to come out with a 1st!
As you can tell, it all got a little dramatic. I was sick of telling people that it was only a 2:1 that I'd got, it should have been a 1st...
But months passed.
On Monday, I headed back down to uni to meet with an old tutor and recieve back those two dreaded portfolios that I'd handed in on my last EVER day of uni. And, after hot chocolate and coffee, I'd sneakily hid in the campus library and spent an hour leafing through the portfolios.
It was only then that I'd understood and appreciated the measures of which I'd gone to achieve that 2:1. And I accepted it.
Looking through the folders, I was soooooo proud of what I'd done, how much work I'd put in. I could feel the weight of it on my shoulders as I walked with a friend to his for dinner, a long-overdue catch-up. And I was soooo grateful that I was, and still am, that hard-working.
That 2:1 deserved a much better greeting on opening that envelope what seemed like years ago. I'd put my all into it but it was just meant to be.
I'm now very inspired and proud of what I've achieved in those three years at university and ecstatic that I have a few very excellent folders for editors and agents to read upon their request.
:)
No comments:
Post a Comment