School starts again this week, and even though I have been watching the calendar for months it somehow still managed to suprise me yesterday when I realized that "Week at a Glance" was actually showing me that i had a class this week. One class to be exact, late in the day thursday, so I wont even have to think about waking up at eight or nine. It is a somewhat anti-climactic beginning to my last year as an undergraduate, to the point of being decieving.
The truth is that I'm trembling on the inside. The future, as always, is an amorphous cloud of possibilities; probabilities, with no real way of knowing where I might stand among the vast population of peers I am inheriting within the writing community. The question that plays itself most often in my mind is whether or not I will find the group or groups of those people who would accept me and the jumbles of words and phrases I have placed on the page.
This year also begins my first experiences in a leadership position, as the president of our undergraduate English club, which has, at best, five members who seem active. Though I feel up to the challenge there is no way of knowing whether or not the experience will end in a feeling of success. Be assured though, that regardless of my propensity toward whining I will come out of this smelling like a rose, because failure is not an option.
My goals are thus at this point: continue to write better everyday than the day before, continue writing, be published, get accepted into a good school with a teaching assistantship, bring EUSO to a point of stability, finish my thesis/book, not drive my professors crazy, get a minimum of a 3.75 GPA (currently sitting 3.71), and simply become a success in everything else that I hope to do in my life. Very simple, I am sure.
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2 years ago