It’s a hard thing to admit failure.
It’s not something one enjoys, or that one likes to revel in it. It’s a lot different than Great Victory which is what we all strive for in the end, yes?
But occasionally, despite our abilities, skills, confidence, and sheer luck the Fates come around and stick a steel toe number 9 in your kiester to remind you that you aren’t infallible.
Me? I managed to get my project online, on time and under budget. I have some clean up work that will require some more travel soon but the larger goal I got completed.
I’ve also managed to hang on by the skin of my teeth to my Law Class. I’m passing, but only just. The multitude of work hours has made it damn near impossible for me to dedicate the time that I needed to dedicate to it.
I even managed to come off my Leave of Absence to help track and coordinate on Hurricane Sandy. An epic storm, and I got to work right through it going almost days without sleep between it, my job and my school.
In all of this I got a couple things done around the house and in my yard that needed doing.
No, where I failed was two fold. Firstly was here. I need to write here….I want to write here. The need to write is something I constantly have however when I sit down my mind goes blank, and the world comes crushing in and frankly the only thing I want to do is lie down somewhere with a glass of Irish whiskey and pass out. Like the whole world is leaning in and suffocating me.
The second, was my Engineering Economics class. Those who know me well know math has always been my Achilles heel, my kryptonite. I have managed on numerous occasions to study my way past the brick wall that my head freeze locks on when it comes to numbers. I’ve become pretty good with balance books and can iterate cash flows. But despite hours of study, practice exams, reading, even sleeping with my stupid book under my pillow, I crashed and burned hard on my midterm.
So hard that looking at the points I just don’t see that I can dig my way out of the hole and still pass. I have to score a 3.25 in my class or higher in order for it to count towards my graduate program. My score is light years from that currently.
Looking back I realize I literally have too much going. Some of it is unavoidable like my work projects. Other parts are my choice: I could resign from the storm center. I could have put off the yard work but the of the matter is it has to be done. I’m not a 23 year old college kid who lives in the dorm. I’m a pushing 40 year old male with a wife, kid, career and acres of home that have to be supported and taken care of.
In short school is killing me.
I’m not quitting, not yet. But the knowledge that I will have to retake this class is…in a word….deflating…..demoralizing and thats eye opening. I’ve had the Midas touch now for almost 5 years juggling career and education I saw this coming…but then I didn’t. I went in cocky and over confident.
And paid the price. My own fault.
I’d get really drunk, but I have to study for my mid term for my law class.