Crying Is Fun, Too

I spent about eight hours this week preparing to lead class discussion on Michael Servetus' work Dialogues on The Trinity. When we were choosing topics at the beginning of the semester, I was pretty vocal about my desire to cover this particular topic. So, I was very pleased when none of the others who had considered him an option were as passionate about this particular reading.

I actually had fun preparing for the discussion. I did some additional reading, found a picture of a chimera to include on my outline, spent at least two hours preparing the outline and compiling additional notes to aid my presentation. This morning, I put the finishing touches on the outline and printed thirty copies to distribute to that class.

As the class began, I was bubbling with anticipation. Dr. Hendrix noted that one of my classmates was missing, but that didn't seem odd until she waltzed in with several obvious stacks of handouts. She usurped my presentation and Dr. Hendrix didn't even bat an eyelash. I don't even think he was aware that it wasn't her topic.

Anyway, I cry when I'm frustrated, so as this woman was doing her presentation (which wasn't as good as mine would have been!), I started tearing up. Mercifully, we had a break and I was able to slip out instead of bawling in the middle of my grad school class, but it was incredibly disappointing to not be able to share my work with the class since that's exactly what I should have been doing.

Fortunately, Jordan's class had been cancelled, so I had a shoulder to finish crying on. Have any of you ever experienced something like this? Tell me your stories of woe...
Post a Comment