For the best part of this year, I've been busy with a ginormous school project.
We first had to write a newspaper than come up with a communication strategy about AIDS in Southern countries.
I fought to have this subject.
While I don't have the science abilities or resistance to blood necessary to attend med school (props to you Dad and baby brother!)that doesn't stop me from being fascinated with medicine related stuff.
I grew up listening to my dad's (who is a GP) stories at the dinner table and was always rather interested.
And no, by that, I don't only mean that I'm obsessed with Grey's Anatomy.
I mean that I actually grew up sneaking around with my dad's books and that one of my favorite reads as a kid was "100 extremely weird medical cases".
As you imagine, I was pretty pumped when I knew I was going to be looking for info about AIDS for 8 months.
Here I was with my subject of choice, on my way to academical success.
As soon as I met the members of my group, I knew it wasn't going to be the walk in the park I thought it would.
See, I like to see myself as a very driven person.
I know what I want and while I h-a-t-e sitting at my table for hours on end, cramming theory inside my head, I know what I have to do to get it and maybe I'm not a study bunny, but I do love to write.
I love searching for sources, illustrating my papers, interviewing fascinating people...and I don't count my time while doing so.
I quickly discovered that not everyone was like me.
Stuck with a ditzy boy always playing with his hair and two non native speakers among others (we were 7) I came to the bitter realization that I was pretty much on my own.
Except that i wasn't and that's maybe the worst.
See, the problem wasn't really the work amount it was the fact that I never knew what to expect from those jackasses.
I'm not going to launch myself into a bitter catty tirade but let's just say that I had my fair share of knotted stomachs, never knowing if they would respect their deadlines and if not, if I would have enough time to do their work for them.
Thank God though, instead of having the sucky ending that I was expecting until today, this story ends good.
They studied the text I wrote them and our presentation went pretty smoothly.
Our grades will probably not be mind blowing but hey, at least, they didn't manage to sink my boat.
Now to be perfectly honest, I don't really know how to end this post.
I didn't learn anything new from that experiment, except maybe that really, you can only count on yourself.
There's not really a morale, or if there's one, it is that if you're a bunch of slackers stuck with 3 hardworking girls (I wasn't really the only one working, that would have been the death of me), fear not because they will single-handedly make sure that you get good grades.
What I did learn though was a very valuable lesson : when all else fails and you have to work for 6, there's always Diet Coke and pretzels.
Thanks to my awesome cheerleaders, I managed not to go all Lizzie Borden on my teammates. Pfiew.