The Sunday Confessional

You didn't think I was going to go a Sunday without making my huge confession did you?

This one is a doozy.

This was from a long time ago. I was a freshman in college and really enjoyed the first year. I slept as late as I wanted, I stayed up late, and made new friends. You know the drill.

What I didn't do much of was study or go to class. It was as if my sudden freedom was intoxicating and I had no moral compass forcing me to go to class. As you might imagine, some of my grades weren't the greatest, especially the second semester.

My first year's transcript came in the mail that summer and I opened it. I had a D. My cumulative GPA was not good.

My mom is a teacher. You don't get Ds in her house.

So here's what I did, and I'm not proud of it.

I made copies of the transcript. Mind you, it was safety paper and when I copied it it read copy copy copy all over it. Never mind that, I worked around it.

I took scissors, tape and white-out and I changed my grade to a B and adjusted my GPA accordingly. I whited-out all the copy copy copies.

After my art project was complete I stuck it back in the opened envelope and left it on the counter for my parents. And you know what? My mom was still upset with my grades and disappointed in my performance.

Imagine how she would have felt if I'd have shown her the D.

It's all worked out. I graduated from college with a less than stellar GPA from a less than stellar school, but I have a great career and I'm not a total loser. Partial loser, maybe. Not complete. It just goes to show how much grades matter in Real Life, right?

OK, that felt good. Just don't tell my kids in fifteen years.