November: "Well done, Maryanne. You are learning to control your anxieties well. Keep working on it."
June: "An excellent student, kind and hardworking. Keep it up. You were even able to laugh at yourself this year and that's good."
Say what? And is it weird that I got all anxious realising that my grade 5 teacher* thought I was anxious?
I'm also wondering if I've changed that much. The general consensus about yesterday is that I got so freaked out about the whole I-put-a-knife-into-my-thumb thing that I actually sent myself into physical shock. For most of the day. Slurred speech, dizziness and all. And a really bad headache. Largely resulting from my combined heeby-jeebies and The Vapours. (My thumb's a lot better today. Thankfully it was a really sharp knife, meaning that the cut was really clean, and the cut didn't go really deep. It was such a clean cut that it's already healing well.)
*Mrs. J was my most favourite teacher ever, and she was well-known for being entirely non-generic, not to mention hilarious. On my brother's report card she referred to him as "quite the lady-killer."