Your Curse Has Ended, Evil Third Grade Teacher

I was a very cute, peppy, happy little kid in K through 3rd grade. I may have even been popular. And I was smart. Then, I had a math test that I didn't do so well on. The Evil Mrs. Papcum (yes that is her real name, real spelling) took me out in the hall and said, "Mavis, some girls just can't do math. And you're probably one of them."

My life went down hill from there. I became socially awkward and discheveled. My popularity sank. My grades became average.

I never did well in Math after that. I drifted toward the readers and writers and away from the scientists and math whizzes. I preferred the artistic kids. I became a punk rocker/goth weirdo in high school. Not that there's anything wrong with that but it doesn't exactly put you on the popularity track in high school. I was teased, ridiculed, humiliated by my peers.

I never passed a math class in college. Not even remedial math, Algebra 095 (it wasn't even a 100-level course). I took it 3 times and I was pathetic. I would have horrible anxiety attacks during the tests - I couldn't breathe. I felt alternately hot and cold. I felt like my brain and my bowels would explode simultaneously. I turned in blank tests. I switched majors just so I wouldn't have to pass Algebra and got by with a Computer Science 200 course on Basic programming (I got a C).

Damn you, Mrs. Papcum.

However, on Tuesday, October 31st, 2006, Mrs. Papcum's evil curse ended. I got an 88% on my Statistics midterm (which in Grad School is an A!). It was one of the highest grades in the class. I'm pushing 40 but I hung that fucking test on the refrigerator. No one will take that away from me.

Victory is Sweet. I am the Smartest Girl in the World and I Am Good At Math.