Sleeping Through Class

As I await the final grades of my education career to roll in, I can’t help but wonder what effect they will have on my future and where I’m headed. With two grades in the books and two classes left to hear from, I am well aware that combined they may be able to sway my final GPA .02 at most. That’s like pumping a little extra gas once the pump has kicked back, thinking it will stave off running out on I-66. Unless your extra pumping to get your bill to an even number, this is a waste, trust me.

For the most part, grad school has not been able to permeate what I dream about at night. I leave my textbooks and papers at the door when I doze off, including when I actually fall asleep in the binding of my books – no osmosis happening here. (It should be noted that in undergrad, I tried this method many times. You can count the number of times by the number of bright yellow highlighter stains on my bedspread. Never fall asleep with an uncapped writing utensil in hand.)

And yet, now that I’m done with class, I’m dreaming of grad school.

Sort of.

The other night, I actually had a dream about checking my grades on the computer to see how I would finish up the semester. In dreamworld, reality is never as expected. Rather than seeing a non-descript generic database printout with everything in Courier font, each class’ grade was presented in a PowerPoint presentation with a certificate. It listed the class, the semester, and the grade, but with fancy type and pomp and circumstance and all the extra fixin’s that can happen in a dream. Since I took four classes, the presentation had four slides. Entrepreneurship, New Venture Initiation, Applied Organization Leadership, one by one, ticked off with pleasing final grades. Job well done, Sleepy Chris.

But as I turned to the last slide, that feeling of self-worth and accomplishment melted like Barry Bonds in the spotlight as I saw my final grade.

I got a C. In Gym.

First off, underperforming in a class you didn’t even know you were taking may be just cause for such levels of underachievement. If you don’t know you have the class, how can you be expected to ace tests and assignments to this point ceased to exist in your collective day planner? Maybe I should have asked for an extension to complete the coursework. Why didn’t I do that? Oh, right. I don’t even know who my professor was in Gym. Who would I ask.

Hold on a sec. Breathe.

Even if I didn’t know when class was held, I should have done better than a C. This is Gym class we’re talking about! I totally ruled in Gym back in the day. I survived full-contact line dancing with Chris Smith! I ran an extra lap in the mile run in order to chase Boblitt around the track! I could hit the back wall of the gym in kickball! I almost picked a fight with Dave Miller in softball and lived to tell about it! How the hell did I get a C? Why didn’t I take advantage of extra credit? How hard could it have been? Sit and Reach farther?

This is why I don’t dream about school much. Happy Graduation Day, GW.