What can I say, friends? I mean, I've been seriously considering just walking around with a sign taped to my back--a big sign that says:
THIS IS AN ENGLISH MAJOR NERD.
But I decided against it, realizing that such rash actions may somewhat impede my chances for further friendship-making. I can't afford to unload all of that on society all willy nilly all over the place.
Of course, this is what my ego wants people to see when they look at me:
Buuuut I'm pretty sure what's going on way down on the inside looks a little more like this:
Except, of course, instead of a boy with ruler-slicked hair, it'd be a girl with a mini curly afro thing.
Some might be mortified by the idea of being labeled a nerd. I can't judge--that's a perfectly natural response. Which is why I am bewildered by the fiesta going on inside my head. I suppose you could say I have learned to embrace my nerdiness, my enthusiasm for 200-year old literature, Star Wars, comics, libraries, and giant thick-rimmed glasses. I rejoice at the prospect of collecting stacks and stacks of Norton anthologies and Penguin Classics so that 20 years from now my children can look through my library and say, "Whoa, Mom, these are so old." To which I will reply, "Yes, they are! Which should give you plenty to discuss on your 5 page essay!" And they will adore literature as much as I do, and it will be one big happy family of English love. :)
If my future kids grow up to be engineers, you better believe they'll dang well be well-read engineers who can discuss Dickens and Shakespeare with sense and authority.
I take all of this excitement as a direct answer to prayer, actually. I so need God to give me joy in my work--real, lasting joy in every paper and presentation. Because over the past 3 semesters, I've come to personally learn that if I don't care about my work, I won't care about my work. Ok, so maybe I'm the only person floored by that thought, but either way, it's helping me understand that it's better to be passionate about something and struggle through the yucky parts, than to stop caring and coast the rest of the way.
Last spring was pretty heinous for me--for a lot of different reasons. I took classes that were unconscionably difficult for me, which led to--> discouragement --> lack of motivation--> random bouts of angst-->more discouragement--> lack of motivation--> more random bouts of angst -->more discouragement--so as one can imagine, for the early part of this January, I was so worried that this would be The Semester of Suck the Sequel. But after a lot of prayer, and receiving the joy that comes from being with family and friends who show me such sincere love in precious ways, I find myself completely...incandescent with peace of mind.
I must go to bed. This is absurd. It simply won't do for me to appear in class with suitcases under my eyes. O.o
Oh look--it's officially tomorrow!!!! :D
The Moral of the Story: I will care about my work, so that I'll care about my work. :)
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