The Grade

Remember my horrible, career killing test?

Well, today we got results back. Dr. Clark called us one and a time to give us our tests back so we could go over it in class before moving on to the next part of the course.

"Fran Fletcher."

I took my test when he handed it to me but didn't look at it until I got back to my seat.  I had seen so many of my classmates look upset when they received theirs.

I took a deep breath and turned it over.  There on the page was a mark made by the computer that had graded the test.  It said --  98% A?  How was that possible?  Maybe Dr. Clark had made a mistake and given me someone else's test, but, no, my name was on it in my hand writing.

I couldn't believe it.  How did I score so highly when I thought I had so completely failed?

When Dr. Clark had finished handing out the tests, he said, "Normally, I don't need to do this.  Normally, I just post test results and that's it, but it's clear to me that many of you need a review before we continue.  I really don't think some of you even cracked open a book for this test.  The highest grade we had in this class was a 98 percent but the vast majority of you scored in the 70s."

He went on talking but I had stopped listening.  A 98 percent was the highest in the class?  Did I have the highest test score of everyone?

Mingus

The following email arrived in my inbox:

Dear Fran Fletcher,

My name is Mingus Fletcher and I do believe we are distant relatives.  I live in Scotland where my family has lived for centuries.  I understand Fletcher is an English name but the family has moved around quite a bit over the course of time.

I've been residing here all my life and recently decided to start researching my family tree.  This is how I found you.  Seems we are descended from the same great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparents.  There are probably thousands of us descendants now but I want to connect with as many as I can and perhaps host a family reunion at some point although it would cost considerable funds to do so.

I hope to hear back from you soon and get to know you better.

Your distant cousin,
Mingus


So what do you think?  Should I write him back?

Test Taker

A, B, C, D or F.  Those are the only choices.  Which one will it be?

I took my first test today since high school.  It covered a lot of material, I repeat, a lot of material, a mind-blowing amount of material.  Once we finish this part of the course it's on to the next part, but this part of the course is important.  Fail it and it's an uphill battle.

Something tells me I failed it.  I can't explain it.  It's a sickness in the pit of my stomach. 

During the entire test my heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to have a heart attack.  I chewed my nails down to nubs and broke three pencils.  I finished a lot sooner than everyone else, too, which tells me I just guessed on a lot of material to get finished.  It was multiple choice so I just picked whatever sounded right.

What do I know about graphic design?

Telemarketer

Ever have someone keep calling you and you can't rid of them?  This past week that has been me.

Somehow my phone number got on a list  --  a telemarketing list.

Someone keeps calling and saying, "This phone call concerns your credit-card account.  Your eligibility is about to end.  Please contact us immediately to keep your interest rates from rising."

The first time I heard it I was convinced someone had stolen my identity and had opened up credit-card accounts in my name.  But then I realised the caller does not mention a specific credit-card company or identify the company she is calling from.  If my time working customer service has taught me anything, it's that legitimate caller will identify who they are, where they are calling from and why they are calling.

Meanwhile, I am increasingly more and more frustrated with this caller.  How can I make them stop before I have a nervous breakdown?

Junk Truck

Leave it to my family to ruin a perfectly nice Sunday morning.  It's my only day to sleep in now and, after weeks of taking classes on Saturday after a 40 hour work week, I'm exhausted.

I was all nice and warm and comfortable when I was startled awake by a horn honking.  It wasn't just a car beeping at another.  It was a loud, obnoxious honk.  And it didn't stop.  I tried ignoring it, but eventually my phone began to ring repeatedly.  The caller I.D. said Brandon.

What did he want?  The sixth time he called I answered.

"Don't you hear me blowing the horn?"

Leave to my idiot brother to be the rude, obnoxious horn honkerer.  I went to the front window and there parked on the street was a Fletcher's Junk truck.

"Why didn't you call, like, yesterday to tell me you'd be visiting?  I could have had company?"

"No, you wouldn't have.  So are you going to let me in or what?"

I went downstairs and let Brandon in.  He still hadn't explained why he was here.

"You know your house sold, right?"

"Yes, Brandon.  It sold to that creepy guy who lives next door.  At this point, I don't care so long as I get my money."

"Well, you left some stuff at the house.  The guy you were renting to said it was your stuff when he left.  So I decided to bring it to you."

I felt my eyelid begin to twitch.  "What am I going to do with it?"

"It's your stuff.  You can't abandon it there."

"But I left it there for a reason."

"You can't abandon it there.  If you want, I'll leave it on the sidewalk for the homeless people to go through."

"What homeless people?"

"You live in the city.  There's bound to be homeless people."

Brandon turned to go back to the truck.  All of sudden, I had visions of hoards of vagrants hanging out outside my house rummaging through my trash and waiting for me to give them more, more, more.  Frightened, I grabbed Brandon's arm.

"No, stop.  Bring it inside.  Maybe I can tell or give it away or something."

He went outside and I collapsed in the nearest chair.

Sold

Good news, good news, good news.  My house sold.  Yes, someone besides me was willing to buy that piece of crap house.  All I had from my realtor was a voicemail.  I had to call her back.

"Hi, Em, what's up?"

"Oh, Fran," Emily said, "we got an offer for your house that's $5,000 above asking price.  I need to meet you to sign some papers.  Unless you don't want to accept it."

"Why wouldn't I want to accept it?  That's crazy."

"I'll say." 

We made plans to meet at a bookstore that's half way between my townhouse and her office.  I quickly read over the paperwork.  The new buyer of my house is named Hoss Klinefelter.  That was funny.  How many Hoss's can there be?

"My old neighbor was named Hoss."

"Oh, that's because it is your old neighbor.  He came and looked at the house maybe three times and then finally came back with this offer."

I scratched my head.  "Why would he pay that much for it when he just bought his house?"

"I don't know.  Maybe he finds the land valuable."

Hum.  I shook my head and then started to think about it.  I always found Hoss creepy.  I was, maybe still am, convinced he is a serial killer.  The thought that he was in my house, even if I don't live there anymore, looking all around and touching stuff gave me the creeps.  I just hoped he doesn't know where my family lives.

Fast Track

So I'm officially a student.  Well, I suppose it was official when I signed up for classes, but now it's official, official.  I went to my first day of class.

When I went this morning, I stared for the longest time at the university from across the street.  I couldn't believe I was going there.  But I suppose it'll be worth it in the end.  I can get out of SAT TV and I can do something more enjoyable for more pay and less stress. 

Finally, I got up the courage to go to my class.  I got lost on the way there and had to ask some teenager for help.  Eventually, I found my way to the lecture hall.  There were more people there than I expected.

The professor stood at the front of the class.  "My name is Dr. Clark.  I want to personally welcome you all here.  I know for many of you this is huge step in your life.  You're making changes.  Changes to your career.  Changes to your future.  It won't be easy.  It will a difficult 18 months  --  you will work hard, study hard and many times you'll feel like quitting -- but at the end you'll have your bachelors and a degree you can be proud of."

I'm not sure what to make of Dr. Clark but, like it or not, I'm stuck with him.  I wonder if I'll pass this course.