It was terrible. I could always come up with a plan even though it may not be good, but at least I had something to fall back to. Just now, I was lost in my own writing. My own writing.

I went on and on about the same point not because I dont have another point but just that it vanished from my mind while I was harping on the old point. At a point in time, I was actually ashamed of my essay because it honestly is an insult not only to my intellect but also to his abilities as a teacher. I was so tempted to not hand it in, knowing that it will only be a waste of his time reading it.

After the paper, I couldn't not meet his eyes.