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  • When I finally was approved to college, I was very sick with a major depression episode that was getting aggravated each week. I was for real going bad even feeling lucky in love, and sickness made me abandon for complete any commitment with getting approval to come into the University. It was not "problem with school"; I only became a trouble about any kind of existence.

    University was not okay, but I couldn't even tell it to anybody because of course I wasn't well at all. One day I put myself close to the window between classes telling the world was going to "The End". I could feel the strange look at my face when my partying colleagues stared at me with a point of worry. Some classes after, a veteran student, attracted by my eccentric appearance with half head shaved, the top head as Medusa's hair, was nicely talking to me when, again, I felt the mad eyes in my face telling him: "DON'T YOU KNOW I'M SERIOUS? I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING HERE!! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER COME TO THIS PLACE!!". Of course he believed me.

    Then, my mother came back home in a very hard moment for everybody, and I was obligated to face the doctor telling the unavoidable time in a clinic for treatment was overtimed. I spent a month between the most different situations to cry, to share, to laugh. Watching people in terminal disease was not a problem for me, but at that time, i was really behaving weird and couldn't even feel sensitiveness for that. After a month in the clinic, the doctors decided that attend to the University classes would be good for me and I tried to catch up with all readings and tests. The medication was too, too heavy, and I couldn't follow lectures, retain information, attend to all the classes and even write, because my hands shook too much and any thought I could express about "Gramsci" and "Dialectic" was "ahn??-ahnn??".

    But then we had a Professor of Brazilian History, a boring pair of glasses who asked for each group of ten alumni to write a work about the settlement of Curitiba in XIX Century... I had to be included in a group, or I'd be reproved, but my fellows were there to help this mad head, delaying the deadline but asking me to do anything, write anything - what could be called nowadays as "copy and paste". Even though I couldn't do the work, and a friend told me "ah, Margot, take any text, put there a cook recipe! We're sure she won't even read the work".

    But my mind was so insane that I believed the girl, and started to think why she couldn't provide herself the cook recipe to fill my blank, instead of asking it to me. And started to look for a good cook recipe that wouldn't seem so unfitted to a History work.

    But God is really, really good! Lord did the rules, and He's able to change the recipe whenever He wants to be a Mother!

    I sat in the sopha, thinking of the best way to create a convincing recipe, when Someone told me to look at the dinner shelf, at the left door. I remembered to have seen a very interesting Yellow List with many useful information and curiosities, and just thought there would be good stuff. I opened the door, and the list was there. As I opened the list, the Professor request was already completely written there. So I called the writer of the group and told her to copy the work there. And we got the maximum grade!!

    I had no reason to have faith, and kept unfaithful for a long time. Being frank, I was baptized Catholic only a long time after University.

    I bet Gramsci would have really given me a cook recipe if he were my friend.
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