school daze.
What. the. eff.
I go back to school next week and I'm slowly dying.
I go back to school next week and I'm slowly dying.
Did you hear me lord?! I'M DYING A SLOW DEATH, COME SAVE ME!
Once upon a childish time, I followed in the footsteps of some randoms at my high school and went to college for social work. It literally went something like this:
Them: Have you applied for college yet?
Me: No, I have no idea what I'm doing!
Them: Apply for social work. That's what I'm doing. All you need is English!
Me: *seeing those flash-ing lights, lights, lights, lights
And right there it was a done deal, homie. I would go to school for social work, hol-ler. It was a two year program, it was the "right" thing to do, my parents would be proud and I would please the world. Honestly, WHAT better? It was like 'Hell yea, where do I sign?' Until I pretty much signed my life away (a little overly dramatic). Long story short, I enjoyed my time there, I met a lot of cool people, learned a lot about myself and the field, and missed my graduation to go to Cuba with my father.
I was 17 when I made the decision to go to school for social work.
I was 19 when I made the decision to go to school for journalism.
But I had to finish the program, I had to. I absolutely hate starting things without finishing them. I then took a year off and enrolled my ass into a journalism program.
Writer's Note: I'm pausing. This is a long pause.
Journalism, wow. Where do I begin? Should I begin? I'm not going to begin. What I will say is that it's a lot more than I expected. I did a little bit of Facebook research (asking current students what the program was like) and the response was good but the main thing they all said was "It's a lot of work". Of couse, my first reaction was "Okaaaay, whatever!" I had just finished a two-year program at a school where I knew no one and nothing about college. I pratically grew up in that school, hunny. So naturally to me, nothing else could be harder.
Well, don't let me be the first to tell you how wrong I was!
This college has this thing where on the first day of all of your classes, they get you to stand up in front of your "peers" and tell them why you are there. Rude! Haha, just kidding. When I did this in my social work days, I had to rehearse what I was going to say in my head before it was my turn. That alone made me realize social work wasn't for me. But I didn't stop. Can't stop. Won't stop! (the P. Diddy in me like's to come out sometimes). This time around, I didn't have that option. I was the first mutha what to be called up! Apparently, I am the first victim on all the class attendance lists. Annoying.
I rolled my eyes and turned to my class and told them my long sob story about social work (honestly, "a-long-story-short", is never a short story with me). They showed no sympathy whatsoever. So then I began to tell them how much I loved to write and sat my ass down. One semester has gone by and I have realized that it is so so soooo much more then just 'loving to write'. Some people said they love to write poetry. That's nice - for YOU because the only poetry you'll be writing is this:
Sally went to school one day
In the journalism program, she must stay
One semester gone and was it a mistake?
Now Sorry Sally has run away
Run Sally run!!!!!! Just kidding.
Often times I think about dropping despite my amazing grades. I've never been more anxious to go on holidays then I was this time around. But I know in the end, I want this.
So I'm going back, biatch. Two and a half more years to go.
Trust me, I'm counting down.
1 Comments:
ha ha....your a joker.....
I fully know of ppl who did this....cuz I am doing child/youth work and there were many ppl who left to do journalism and then came back to child/youth work....
It's the same old story..
the DREAM is By FAR Different that the REALITY!
Good Luck Girl!
bless!
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home