The Love Suicides at Amijima

I'm so sorry that my life is so boring that the most interesting thing that's happened to me recently is an English paper I got back. It was a paper that analyzed nature in this Japanese play The Love Suicides at Amijima.

I knew my essay was pretty shitty to be honest. It was legitimately horrible. I wrote it at midnight after I got off of work. It was rough, but I actually read the play so I was like I got this. Being the intelligent college student that I am, I e-mailed my professor and I was like hey boo. Can I stop by your office and talk about this. She's all like yes.

I go to her office and there is one chair. It is a stool that technically has a back. My professor is this amazonian woman. I wear heels to her class every day just so I have a height advantage. She sits me down and makes me grapple for what she wants in this essay. The only thing she tells me is that “I should incorporate the bush” from the first act.

Of course I told her I would do that. I do not remember this bush. I am like the fuck. I go home looking for the bush and there is no bush. How am I supposed to add a bush into my paper when there is literally no bush. Still I improve my paper as best as one can and I turn it in on Thursday.

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Two weeks later I am in class and she hands them back. I am not expecting an A plus, but certainly a solid C. There is legitimately an entire page marked out of my paper. Entire sentences are rearranged. There are arrows pointing at everything. I get to the back page and my grade is a D minus.

Your favorite blogger got a D on a paper. I'm fairly sure the only reason she gave me a D is because she didn't want to go to the trouble of putting a number grade down for an F. Literally the only thing I did right was turn this paper in on time.

Honestly, you would think this was the worst part of my week. It didn't even phase me. The worst thing that happened is when this girl I sit with at lunch was all like LOL not coming. It was a Tuesday and I had all these melodramatic tweets about how Drake lied to me. The club does not go up on a Tuesday.

Needless to say I can't really fail this next essay. I went hardcore on it. It's insane bullshit. I took all of her criticisms and compartmentalized them. Her question of why is there so much plot summary (It's a four page essay bitch what am I supposed to write about) has been answered by me literally not explaining the plot of Candide and just throwing examples out there. I didn't have enough analysis? Candide is now the story of god being an irrational source of violence.

I read my essay and I was like this is all bullshit. Hopefully it offends my protestant teachers rather large heart. It reads like I think god is dead. That's what she's going to think and I see no reason to dissuade her of that notion.

Fingers crossed that your favorite blogger doesn't fail English class.