The end.

Yesterday was just bullshit-fucking-awful. I also haven’t slept properly in days. Today I spent my whole day in bed, on the couch, back and forth, eating chocolate bars and really bad food and sleeping, sleeping then waking up, then waking up and falling asleep while surfing the internet on my iPhone.

Yesterday, though, was the worst. I had a presentation some time during the evening; all I knew was that I was up fifth out of all the other people in the class. There are about fifteen people in the class. My reason for choosing to go fifth is that five is really one of my favourite numbers, and I figured it would be best to be one of the first lot up, so that I could get it over and done with.

I haven’t had much sleep this week, staying up until 5:00am on several days just to get my work completed, and handed in on time, and even then I was probably late. Getting up at some ridiculous time, to try and make it to work on time at 9:00am, then just skipping breakfast and falling asleep on the train with the feeling of wanting to vomit, and then getting through the day only to realise, at 6:00pm, that I had to walk to class, and so I trudged there, more tired than ever, only caring about tweeting, really, and nothing else.

It’s been so crazy that last weekend seems like a month ago.

I walked into work yesterday knowing I’d just fucked up my assignment; I made a stupid prototype for a potential iPhone application. I hated this subject to bits; I’ve hated it for as long as I can remember - since the very first class when I just busted out early so I could see Hey Geronimo playing in the bar downstairs in the university bar. I remember that first time everyone turned up and the class actually wasn’t on until the next week - didn’t we all fucking see it was a bad sign?

This semester, for this subject, plainly, was unbelievable. “Digital Information and Interaction Design” does not constitute this stupid piece of shit known as “television”. I smashed the subject so hard in the student feedback survey we had to give, writing that the subject clearly hadn’t considered that interaction design is simply not limited to this stupid, brain-sucking, eye-infesting thing called “television”. I wanted to shoot my tutor so much, not to mention the “other tutor” who gave me a Fail grade, when he clearly had never spoken to me. Son of a bitch.

Yesterday, we had “the client” come in to watch and listen to our presentations, “the client” being some guy working in interactive television and… you know, he doesn’t deserve an introduction.

Let me just tell you didn’t prepare my presentation. I thought I’d wing it as I usually do. You know, think about it fifteen minutes beforehand, give an overview of my project, and then show them my prototype. I didn’t prepare a presentation of slides or a “powerpoint” or a “keynote” as they refer to those things. I don’t know why they have to say “she gave a keynote at the ___” - dude, seriously, not everyone knows what Keynote is, so “giving a keynote” is going to bring back a literal “what the fuck?” from some of your students. I’m referring to some tutors here. For the record, and for those unaware, Keynote is a program that allows you to create presentations with slides and so on.

Just before my turn, I was panicking to Daniel via iMessage that I couldn’t do this, couldn’t do this… He knew how I was feeling, and he reassured me. Just knowing someone was there to ease my panic was okay. I knew I’d just have to talk, it’d be done soon.

When it was my turn I just scrambled up to the front desk and started talking; I apologised for not having any slides. If you’re a good talker, if you can talk, then you don’t need slides to back you up.

Can I just say that this was a compulsory task but it was ungraded? I got up there, talked for five minutes, showed them my prototype, demonstrated a few things, and at the end, felt pretty good that I hadn’t slurred in my speech or halted very much, and spoke a lot of bullshit pretty confidently.

This is what the client said to me when I’d finished:

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really get this? I don’t really understand what you’re trying to show me. Can I just say, that, you shouldn’t assume people know what you’re talking about? I’ve worked in the industry for a while, and I give a lot of presentations, and sometimes people know what I’m talking about, but you can’t assume that people know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry if I’m being harsh, but it’s almost as if your hard work has gone to waste. I don’t really understand the point of this.”

I didn’t say anything. I tried to nod.

My tutor said to me:

“Yes… some slides would have helped. I think you needed to explain more, I don’t know what Tumblr is, I was going through thinking I knew what it was but I didn’t really…”

This from someone who constantly brags about how he works in social media and knows about Facebook and Facebook and Facebook and… well, if you haven’t so much heard as Tumblr, and you work in this industry, who are you but a sad sack of sand.

I coughed out a “thanks”. I started crying.

I walked to my desk and tried to stop crying. I started drinking the bubble tea I had bought before class. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. A teardrop dropped on my leg; I stared back at my phone and told Daniel how awful it was. I couldn’t type much more than one sentence, my gaze focused on the person presenting after me, whose presentation was a million times better than mine.

I listened to all the feedback that was given to my classmate from the client, and I wanted to cry so much harder at the fact that I hadn’t received any feedback at all whatsoever, just a fucked up “I didn’t understand”, and felt embarrassed, but more upset than embarrassed, and I wanted to just walk out. I thought about all the times my high school friend Karen would storm out of the classroom when she was in a bad mood, when I ran out of the classroom at times teachers told me off or when I felt like crying, but I didn’t feel like I had the right to walk out. Twenty-one years old, crying in class, feeling trapped.

I stared at my phone, went back to iMessaging Daniel.

I felt like utter shit.

Just before I walked out of that classroom, right after everyone’s presentations, I heard my tutor addressing everyone with congratulations, and saying he was up for a beer at the pub across the road… well, I thought, you never seemed to like me this entire semester, forgot my name but remembered everyone else’s by week three, treated me like absolute crap… now you want to have a drink with me? I’m not coming. I heard him say, “If you’re not coming, I’ll be very disappointed”.

I hope you felt that disappointment from my end. I blindly opened the door and got out, pressed the elevator button for the ground level, and waited.

Not very long. Our system works with a panel outside the elevator, there aren’t any buttons inside, so you choose your level before you enter. I walked inside the elevator, expecting someone else from my class to be running to the elevator as well, but there was no one.

When the doors closed, the ground level button lit up immediately. I descended the full 23 levels down.

I walked out in the biting wind with my head down. I could have stormed out after I started crying and it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Never again. I’ve got one essay left, but I don’t want to deal with this subject ever again. I don’t want to repeat it, ever. I don’t want that. I hope I don’t fail.