You think you know my mind so well.
“It’s hard being smart. You grow up with things being too easy, and then suddenly one day it’s not, now you’re going to have to work for the grade. You’re a smart girl, but frankly, you’re just not putting in the work I need. You think you’re all that, and I hate to be the one to tell you, but you’re not.”
Who does you think you are? That’s not why my grades aren’t as great as you’d like them to be. Did you ever stop and think that maybe I am trying hard. That maybe I’m just not that great. I’m not one of the ones writing their essays five minutes before class. I do mine the night before. I stay up late writing and rewriting because that’s the way YOU want it. I hate your class. I don’t get the point of it. Maybe that’s why I’m not doing so hot. Ever think about it that way? I bet you haven’t because how could anyone think like that about YOUR class? You’re the greatest teacher ever.
I need to get over myself? You need to get over yourself.