by Phyllis Capanna © 2012 joyreport
I have an old thing about completing things. I don’t like to do it. I find ways to back out, forget, and otherwise flake. The worst episode of this was when I was in college the first time. After completing two years, I went ahead and registered for classes for the fall semester of what would have been my junior year, then proceeded to fizzle academically, even forgetting I was enrolled, until I received my grade report, an A an F and two Incompletes. (The A must have been in a class that accepted papers in lieu of attendance. I was a master of the all-nighter-the-night-before paper.)
I skulked out of B. U. with two full years complete and that one semester hanging in the air like a wet flag.