So I went and talked to several advisors, picked out my classes for next semester, and officially switched my major. But because I did this so late, I'm stuck finishing out these awful courses. I dropped calculus though, I knew there was no shot of passing.
I'm not a mathematician, nor a scientist. I'm not methodical, or meticulous. I'm verbose, and chaotic. I love words, and I love color. I love fighting for what I believe in, and I love using words to get what I want.
It's a scary path, and one that may not get me a good job.
T had some trouble with it, and we fought about it. But she realized, and I realized too, that it's my life, and I need to do what's best for me, and fuck the rest. I need to figure out what makes me happy. At the end of the day, the only person that I have to live with; the only person I have to answer to is me.
So I could use some fast forwarding to get me to the break, and then to the next semester where I'll be studying something I have a passion for. It's still going to be work, but it will be work worth doing.
My brother is currently in Georgia still, finishing out his AIT training for the military, and then he will be stationed in North Carolina for however long. The only bummer is that he won't make it home for Thanksgiving. I can tell my dad is bummed about that because Thanksgiving is his this year, while my mom has us for Christmas. When its his year, normally its a big Johnson family thing, where everyone flies in, and there's this huge dinner prepared.
But this year, no one can fly in, since my step-grandpa is sick, and dying, and no one else has the money, and all the cousins are grown and doing their own things. So it'll just be me, and dad, and robin, and the step-cousins.
I actually haven't even been home since August, because of my job, and school. Weirdly enough, I'm not missing it at all. Like this time last year, I was so homesick, I cried nearly every night. I was living in a shoebox of a dorm with an awful roommate, and I was barely surviving my classes.
I'm not a mathematician, nor a scientist. I'm not methodical, or meticulous. I'm verbose, and chaotic. I love words, and I love color. I love fighting for what I believe in, and I love using words to get what I want.
It's a scary path, and one that may not get me a good job.
T had some trouble with it, and we fought about it. But she realized, and I realized too, that it's my life, and I need to do what's best for me, and fuck the rest. I need to figure out what makes me happy. At the end of the day, the only person that I have to live with; the only person I have to answer to is me.
So I could use some fast forwarding to get me to the break, and then to the next semester where I'll be studying something I have a passion for. It's still going to be work, but it will be work worth doing.
My brother is currently in Georgia still, finishing out his AIT training for the military, and then he will be stationed in North Carolina for however long. The only bummer is that he won't make it home for Thanksgiving. I can tell my dad is bummed about that because Thanksgiving is his this year, while my mom has us for Christmas. When its his year, normally its a big Johnson family thing, where everyone flies in, and there's this huge dinner prepared.
But this year, no one can fly in, since my step-grandpa is sick, and dying, and no one else has the money, and all the cousins are grown and doing their own things. So it'll just be me, and dad, and robin, and the step-cousins.
I actually haven't even been home since August, because of my job, and school. Weirdly enough, I'm not missing it at all. Like this time last year, I was so homesick, I cried nearly every night. I was living in a shoebox of a dorm with an awful roommate, and I was barely surviving my classes.
