Haha. As if I had a life before. I am so funny.
Goodbye summer, hello new semester! Unfortunately, my schedule is thus far tentative, something that stresses me out and has turned my hair even more frizzy. Thanks, Florida + stress.
French Revolution: I just want to know if Jean Valjean is a real person.
Ancient Greece: So I can finally read that copy of The Odyssey that is collecting dust on my bookshelf.
Creative Writing: Flash Fiction on The Walking Dead. CAN LIFE GET ANY BETTER? Only thing is, I'm wait-listed for the class, which is already capped, so I don't think I'll be able to get in. Sorrow. I find out tomorrow whether or not I'll be writing FF on what would have happened had the Governor not gone crazy. (Um, season three wouldn't have happened, that's what.)
Senior Seminar - Tolkein and Lewis: Favorite author + another favorite author = howcouldInottakethisclass.
Piano: So I can regain my former glory as the master of "Chopsticks" and "Heart and Soul." Then again, I might not be accepted into the class, and then I don't know what I'll do!
Essentially, my life is now going to turn into this:
when I just want it to be this:
along with the rest of my "writing bag" (Thanks, Leah!):
which includes all of these things:
If Ella saw how many notebooks I use, HER hair would explode, because why use five different clumps of paper when I can just use one? And then I would say, "First off, Ella, stop being so anal. Second, I need five different notebooks, because each notebook speaks to me in a different way and thereby demands a different style of writing. Third, you don't even exist except in my brain, so that must mean...that I am talking to myself. Okay. Goodbye now."
Even though I know I need a degree and blah blah, I really hate how school is going to consume what time I could be spending writing. Now, now, I know what you're going to say. "Just wait until you get into the real world, Rebecca. Then you'll wish you were back in college 'cause that's as free as you're ever gonna be! *Cue maniacal laughter*"
I know, older and wiser person. I know. But that doesn't mean I can't pretend to be taking notes in class while secretly writing in a mustached notebook.
Who am I kidding? I'm actually really excited for all of my classes. I will be studious and I will take copious notes on King Louis XVI, Euripides, The Silmarillion, Perelandra, the bourgeoisie, Robert Kirkman, and Chopin. And maybe, just maybe, I'll get a little bit of my own writing in.
Just a little bit.
***Amendment: I am now taking Latin instead of Creative Writing. Why? Because I want to die.
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