Big plans, big goals, read a lot for pleasure and write a lot to keep in practice. Good thing I do not get grades for winter break, because I would fail hands down.
During my first semester all I did was write. There were journals, and free writes, rough drafts, final drafts, scholarships, homework, and research papers. My brain was screaming for it to stop so that I could come here and write something that was not being graded, not being analyzed, and would not affect my financial aid in any way. I wanted to write all those ridiculous thoughts that ran through my mind when I wasn’t thinking about incomplete sentences and comma splices. “I will be at that keyboard morning til night getting that nothingness out.” That was my big plan for break, Epic Fail.
Spring semester starts in two days and I have found myself here out of fear and desperation. I already have a 300 word discussion board response due by next Sunday and I am starting to hyperventilate over it all. Do not over analyze and do not over think is what my new-found classmates told me last semester as I would read and reread my essays. I could not bet below an A. In my mind that would have been failure. When I received an A- on one of my essays I wanted to beg for a redo. In my head it was a disaster. In the real world it was a perfectly good A- which did not lower my GPA below 4.0. I put the very unrealistic goal of perfection onto my shoulders. Not a wise thing to do even though I came out of first semester with a 4.0 and Presidents List.
It will be a challenge to keep that GPA this coming semester. The course work is much more difficult and my course load is more demanding. Professors are expecting more and rightly so. We may still be freshmen, but we have a semester under our belts. No more hand holding for us. It is simply terrifying.
On January 20th my second semester of college begins. I cannot wait to be back on campus everyday. It feels so natural and right to be there. I feel positive, aware, awake, and alive, when I am walking the halls, sitting in the library, or talking with professors. Yet the security of my bus driving job makes me question what the hell I am doing at my age. Do I really expect to start a brand new career a couple of years before I am ready to retire? YES I do. Is it too late for me? NO it is not. I might still be able to work until I drop dead if I am doing something I want to do. It will only be too late when my last breath escapes me and my ashes are scattered in the wind.