Flickering
I'm so confused. Everyone's going to university this week, and I feel like I'm being left behind. Which is pretty silly since I specifically chose to abandon academics for a year to avoid the hassle they're about to go through. Yet I'm sort of regretting it now. It really doesn't help that Mum keeps commenting on how I'd clean up in first year classes and get scholarships and go to school with her on the bus every day. I'm much more sure of my academic skills after hearing stories of the first year English she taught this summer. Am I doing the right thing?
I finally decided what I'm going to take at university, once I get there. Oddly enough, I decided at Ellen's during the Book-Making Part of Utter Doom and Cramped Hands (blasted pinking shears...) during a random conversation with her. I'm going to get a degree in nutrition. There. It's final. I can stop pointlessly flailing around for something to catch hold of. Not that I'll get it right away; it's a four year non-direct entry program, which means a year or two of Arts and Sciences before I even apply. Joy.
A friend of Charity's told me of a potential job at a nursing home. I know I haven't had the best experience applying at seniors residences (the snooty jerks at Emmanuel Village took an entire month and two weeks to send me a 'all positions are filled, maybe next time' letter), but apparently they're strapped for people and pay really well (I'd likely be making more than Chewie, and she's been at Wal-Mart for two years). Sounds good, right? I don't know anymore. I don't know much these days. My attempts at vegetarianism have mostly gone down the drain, mostly from the worries of my mother. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything...
I finally decided what I'm going to take at university, once I get there. Oddly enough, I decided at Ellen's during the Book-Making Part of Utter Doom and Cramped Hands (blasted pinking shears...) during a random conversation with her. I'm going to get a degree in nutrition. There. It's final. I can stop pointlessly flailing around for something to catch hold of. Not that I'll get it right away; it's a four year non-direct entry program, which means a year or two of Arts and Sciences before I even apply. Joy.
A friend of Charity's told me of a potential job at a nursing home. I know I haven't had the best experience applying at seniors residences (the snooty jerks at Emmanuel Village took an entire month and two weeks to send me a 'all positions are filled, maybe next time' letter), but apparently they're strapped for people and pay really well (I'd likely be making more than Chewie, and she's been at Wal-Mart for two years). Sounds good, right? I don't know anymore. I don't know much these days. My attempts at vegetarianism have mostly gone down the drain, mostly from the worries of my mother. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything...