oloriel | Academic Awesome, at last

So the presentation on Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Ælfric's Preface To Genesis And Then Some actually went well. We managed to get all (I think) our points across (I think) well (I think), and people didn't fall asleep or look entirely confused.
We did not, however, manage to include the audience as planned within our half-hour. On the first two attempts nobody reacted, and because we had little time and I am not cruel enough to tell someone "Well look at line 26 and tell me what you see there, damnit" ("What is similitudinem? What? What?" - "Accusative, ~~lord~~ lady! Accusative!" - "Accusative what?!" - "Singulaaaargh!") eventually we did the things the others should have found ourselves, and the time didn't suffice for the third option anyway.

Which, of course, got us a reprimand after the presentation. "Did you have no plans to include the audience?"
"Yes we did; but time was too short."
"Well then you should have cut other things, because this was a priority."

At this point I was feeling surprisingly angry, and was seriously tempted to say "Yea more! And what exactly should we have cut? You told us explicitly to include background information on Ælfric, to explain the office of Ealdormann, to explain about Old English Bible translation again, to point out the rhetorical figures, to give examples for Ælfric's inclusion of the reader. You wanted cultural background, historical background, biographical background, background on the genre and in-depth text analysis. What, pray tell-" and yes, if I had spoken that moment, I really would have said pray tell - "What should we have left out in order to include the lazy masses that actually don't want to be included and won't do so until pushed, which takes even more time that we didn't have in the first place?"

Fortunately I managed not to vocalise these thoughts and only gave him a brief Look, but I either thought them forcefully enough or the Look was very eloquent, because his next words were "Well, but on the whole it was a very good presentation - quite exhaustive - and you should take the lack of questions not as a sign of indifference but as a sign that you left no questions open."
Note that he normally always says "Well, that was fairly good", and we actually got a "very" and additional praise. Perhaps I should use the Look more often.

After class he passed us and told us again that it was a good presentation, and then turned to me.
"By the way, I've read your term paper."
Oh crap, thinks I, here it comes.
"You can pick up your Schein whenever you want. It was a good paper."
"Thank you," I manage. Good paper. Huh. Is this the "It was a passing grade, which is a good thing" kind of good, or the "You got a grade 2" kind of good? (Note on academic grading in Germany: There's four basic passing grades - 1.0 = very good, 2.0 = good, 3.0 = satisfactory, and 4.0 = sufficient, with lots of sub-grades like 1.3 and 2.7 and what have you, plus two "failed" grades - 5 = insufficient and 6 = poor) Probably the latter, I tell myself - the paper wasn't that bad. Surely it'll be 2.something. 2.3 if I'm lucky, but let's assume 2.7 so I won't be disappointed. Or 2.9? Or did the "good" just mean "passed" after all?
Oh well. Only one way of finding out, really.

So later on between classes I go to the Student Information Office as they call the Geschäftszimmer, the department office, these days, and ask about my Schein.
I get five (whoops), two of which are wholly unexpected. Figures none of them is from Prof. A. for the Semantics seminar even though I would have been eligible for a Schein there - am not really surprised, just feel affirmed in my severe dislike of her. Also Prof. J. actually managed to grade that bloody essay from two years ago. I suppose I should have dropped by the Student Information Office earlier.

What I don't see is the Schein for the paper in question. Perhaps the Prof hasn't brought that to the SIO yet after all? Gnah. I was curious at this point.

A moment later I leaf through the five Scheine + one ancient essay again. Oh look, there's the one for the paper after all. They look different these days, you no longer have easily discernable [enter information here] lines but one homogeneous computerised mass, plus a crapload of modular information that makes it really hard to find the most interesting point, i.e. the grade, and ---

Ahahahah whut.
I think I got somebody else's Schein.
The matriculation number is mine, though, and the name is mine (albeit the maiden version).
And the paper title is mine, too.
Holy crapzors.
This must be a typo. I mean, WHUT. My paper wasn't that bad, but then again it wasn't that good, either. I mean, it didn't actually have any proper point (besides "I can't prove my point, I can only prove that I can't prove my point. Further research necessary.")
He probably meant to type 2.9, and accidentally hit the keys on the left and on the right, respectively.
I mean, he can't possibly have meant...
1.0.

ONE. Point ZERO.

This must be an error of some sort. Surely he meant 2.9. Or perhaps 2.0. Or 1.9. But never, never, never 1.0.

Except there's not just numerals, it's spelled out too. And it says, black on grey (like any proper German public institution, Cologne University uses environmentally friendly recycled paper):
very good (1.0).

The phrase WTFeth was rarely ever this appropriate.

I just barely managed to refrain from having a bonfire in the Philosophikum, or from hugging random strangers, or from running into the Prof's office to ask whether he was drunk or reading a different paper when he typed that up.

- - -

To top things off, Colin is back from Cambridge for the Medieval English Literature seminar. I'm taking said seminar for the 4th time now and finally begin to hate Othello (both book and character) a little less. And maybe, after this major motivation booster, I'll finally manage to, like, finish that paper on Sir Gawain...

*hyperventilates, and goes to light bonfire NOW*