Yesterday, I went to class. It was D-Day. We handed in those assignments one right after another until the only thing left was our presentations.
Each group was supposed to do three presentations. There were two of us. So I said to Procrastination Girl, "Who's doing the final presentation?" She looked at me in her passively helpful way and said, "Really, it doesn't matter to me. I can do it." I knew full well that she did not want to, not really, because she's nervous about speaking before groups, but I'd asked her straight out. She did what she has done from the start of this project. Offer to help, and then not follow through. I'd written the whole report. She'd corrected some equipment names but hadn't even bothered to respond to the final e-mail with the finished report. She made a poster. As she sat there looking wide eyed and anxious, waiting for me to take the final presentation, I just thought, "No." So I looked at her and said, "Well, if you really don't mind, it would be a relief if you took the third presentation. Thanks. I appreciate it." And I went back to my desk and sat down.
I suppose that it was not fair. I'd been supportive and nurturing and encouraging right along, and to suddenly change gears so to speak, to not be affected by her helpless anxiety wasn't fair. Still, when it came time for presentations, I heard my name being called by the teacher. I looked over. The teacher asked, "Are you presenting twice?" I said, "Well, I was under the impression that Rachel was doing two..." and the teacher said, "That was supposed to have been decided..." and I thought things that I could not say. Rachel stood there with an anxious expression on her face as the teacher made the decision in my moment of speechlessness. "Debby, you're presenting twice then."
But it's done.
And it feels good to be done.
One more week of class.