Supplied - Alberto GLook, I don’t care what your mom told you when she tucked you into bed last night. It’s a dog eat dog world out here, and in a world like this, the only way a person’s worth can possibly be measured is by a set of letters on a piece of paper.
“But I’m a nice person,” you say. “My grades may not be the best, but I donate to charity when I can and I’m always there for my friends! Surely that counts for something, right?”
Okay, that’s cool, but is that gonna make up for that 70 per cent you got on your midterm? Get real. The fact is, A is for average, B is for blah, C is for clown, D is for dumbass and F is for fucking failure.
Your grades are a perfect reflection of who you are, and everyone will care about them forever!
If anyone ever tries to tell you some junk about “the importance of mental health” or “eating a proper meal three times a day”, don’t believe a word of it. Only losers practice that “self care” nonsense — real winners study until they die. So get to it, because if you’ve got a pulse, you can read a few more chapters.
