|Photo Cred to http://forninepounds.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html|
I have never been a natural writer. When I write, Shakespeare weeps, as if thinking, “How can I have the same birthday as this pathetic young lad?” Of course, he’d say that sentence in his confusing way, but ask me to translate that for you—it’d be a disaster.
Because of this handicap, I usually end up taking longer than everybody else to write simple paragraphs.
For example, a week ago, an essay was due for my English class. It was a pain and I actually was up until 1 am editing to make sure there was absolutely nothing that my teacher could take off points from.
And then it hit me.
We were supposed to write an expository essay.
And I actually had no idea what an expository essay was.
Yes, this is what happens when you are up at 1 am proofreading your essay that is due in 6 hours.
So I researched what an expository essay was and realized that I had written my essay… in the form of a narrative.
Really, Sarah Cruz? A narrative? Come on, you could have made it a little bit easier, but no, you had to put your voice in the writing as well as some pointless anecdotes that your English teacher has no intentions of giving you points for.
At this point in time, it was about 1:45 am and I was blindly looking for a 5-hour energy in my kitchen, only to realize that this was a house with four children and that the closest thing I would find to 5-hour energy was some tea in the cabinet.
Total let down, but I took what I could get. I chugged down 2 mug-fulls of green tea and the burning of the hot water definitely woke me up.
And I wrote that expository essay.
In fact, I wrote 4 drafts in one hour, and had never felt so utterly accomplished. At 3 am, I did a final check-over, printed all 4 drafts and the final draft, stapled them together and passed out on my desk.
At 6:45 am, my alarm clock rang and after muttering some nonsense and about 6 of the 7 swear words in one breath, I got up and went to school.
I turned my essay in that day.
My English teacher told me to rip off all the other drafts I had made. She only wanted the final draft.
I have never wanted to yell at a teacher as much as I did at that moment. I should said something super dramatic like, “I put my sweat and tears… and blood… and chugged two hot mugs of tea at 2 in the morning for those four drafts and you only want my final draft?!”
But I didn’t. Because I consider myself someone with a little bit of common sense.
Lesson learned: Don’t bother proofreading your essays at 1 am. Just turn the one you have in.
And that’s the story of my horrible writing day. I’m still waiting on that essay to be graded. I’m going for maybe… a C? Tops, definitely a C.
Sometimes I really wonder why I joined the newspaper at my school.