Tuesday, April 14, 2015

I miss you. . .

Have I said that recently?  I miss you.  I miss blogging.  I miss writing creatively.  I miss not having to cite sources.  Especially when the thought is my own, but my teacher doesn't believe me and requires me to find a more educated person with the same idea just so I can cite some more.  I miss making up new rules for punctuating because it gets a point across more effectively.  Every. Time. I miss writing in first person because, let's be honest, I'm vain and like to talk about myself. Way. Too. Much.  I MISS CONTRACTIONS!  Not that kind, weirdo.  The kind that comes from two words who love each other very much becoming one and then making an entirely new word that still resembles the parent words but just looks a little different-- you know what?  Never mind.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm back in school. I've been researching for the past year and a half what kind of degree to pursue and where to pursue it.  With my husband's crazy schedule and our lack of funds for a babysitter, I've settled into online schooling so I can work at home and make my own schedule.  I'm switching back to English as my major which means I have turned into the people that used to annoy me most in high school.  You know, the I'm-going-to-study-English-because-I'm-working-on-a-sci-fi-novel kid who is always asking you to read his uncomfortably awkward poetry. My book is more like a young adult fairy tale, and I rarely write poetry, which makes me TOTALLY different.

Anyway, I have about two years left before I can kiss pet lick frame a college diploma.  Afterwards I'll still have a year long masters program before I can take my emo poetry back to high school where I'll be teaching.  Hopefully.  That's the plan.  It was always the plan.  Since grade school, it has been my plan, but between tight fiances and two babies I got really lost and unsure of myself.  I changed majors, schools, and even thought about giving up altogether on my educational pursuits. However, that decision never sat well with me.  So, here I am, mothering all day and writing late into the night. I see the end goal.  I even taste it.  But that doesn't make me miss you any less.

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