School

I was going to title this page, “Learning”, but then I thought, that’s stupid. I’ve been learning all my life. That’s like titling a page “Girl” and talking about a dress you wore once and had a bad accident involving a machine gun and some silly putty. WAY too vague.

“School” represents the capstone of my life so far. From the day you hit highschool, well-meaning adults ask you which college you’ll attend and what you plan on studying. Although I did have fun with it, I eventually stopped using the, “I’m probably going to elope right out of junior year” excuse, and started saying AlmaMater, mainly because my parents went there. I couldn’t be bothered to actually think about my life four years ahead of time. (I’ve changed the name of the school. There’s not actually a college called “AlmaMater”, folks, it’s all in your head.)

But then I thought that I’d actually like to attend AlmaMater. It had the same beliefs and objectives I had, and I researched the founder and thought he was pretty cool, too. Also, it was much cheaper than most  schools.

I attended Day One. By myself. Everyone else had their parents, siblings, and grandparents with them. And then there was me. Dad dropped me off on the corner and drove away, laughing maniacally as he swerved around the corners.

And then I applied.

Didn’t get accepted. Ouch.

REACTION, HAS A COW, GOES TO INDIA WHERE THEY LIKE COWS.

Applied again.

Didn’t get accepted.

ANOTHER FIT. Went to live in Nebraska for a bit. Got four jobs. Had no life.

Applied again.

Accepted. Finally.

I’m in. I’m finally in. I’m finally back on the path that most of my peers dully trod. It feels weird. It feels exciting, but I’ve since learned that it just doesn’t pay to get hopes up and all excited about things in the future, because there’s a 1045% chance that it won’t turn out like your happy mind plays it out to be.

I have a feeling most of my posts will have to do with this genre of panic, just an FYI.

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