Young Writers Society

August 14, 2013

School started back today. I’m not too concerned about my semester, since I don’t have anything to uphold anymore. After I lost my scholarship and changed my major to keep from flunking out, it feels easier, more laid back, more…me. I don’t have to worry about making As and Bs in every class just to keep a 3.0 average, or to go in a certain order like I had to when I was in bio-med.

Bio-med was a marvelous dream of mine, but only a dream. I wish I had realized that sooner. I wanted to be a veterinarian so badly, especially after volunteering with the Humane Society back home and seeing all of the damage done in abuse cases, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do the chemistry, and I refused to give up. I refused to see that, despite how much I wanted it, I couldn’t do it. My failures started in sophomore year, with chemistry. It then spread into Organic Chemistry and Anatomy, and then Physics and Molecular Biology… As the courses got harder, I fell further, until I lost my scholarship. It’s gone, and I can’t get it back. I knew, then, that if I kept going, I would flunk out of school completely.

That’s why I’m now an English major. Even when I was doing the biology major, I had every intention of performing. It just wasn’t my primary goal, I guess.

I’m not too worried anymore. I only have thirteen hours, and only nine of those are actual classes. I can also do my own schedule however I please without it affecting my courses in the future. I have a pretty easy schedule, very routine and it’s well balanced, I think. I start the day in World Literature, then Music History, then two choirs, and I close it with British Literature. Monday nights, I’m going to start going back to band. I miss band so much… It may not be vocal, but it was my first love. Including instrumental music, I’ve been a generic musician for 16 years. (Wow…am I really that old?) I’ve only been a classical vocalist for ten years. This year makes my eleventh.

Even though I’m more of a concert instrumentalist, I do miss marching band. I know I’ll never be able to march again; my ankle won’t let me. I still don’t know if I’m going to have to have surgery or not. I find out August 22.

Speaking of finding out, my follow-up with the other doctors has been rescheduled… They need to run a few more tests and re-do the ultrasounds, meaning my appointment tomorrow is meaningless. I won’t find out anything from them until August 27, now. Two more weeks… God, can I wait that long? The anxiety is killing me!

I don’t need to worry. Stop it. Everything will work out, one way or another. There is always a way, God permitting…

I just want to know. I want to find everything out and know for certain. I’ve been told several times that I can still have kids, but that’s the problem. In the time span I may have, I’m still in school. The only thing keeping me from getting pregnant now is school – the fear that a child would draw unnecessary focus away from my degree, and that I’ll flunk out and never get my degree, not when I need it most. I can still perform without one, but I can’t teach. I want a child so badly, that I dream about it and I treat my baby cousins as if they’re my own, and it breaks my heart when I see families with small children or children on the way. Because I can’t have one right now. And that three to five year window, most, if not all, of it is when I’m still in school… It’s 2013. I’m not expected to intern until at least August 2016…that’s exactly three years. And even if I have a child during the summer, it will still draw attention from school during the academic year, and I won’t do as well in my studies.

Maybe things will start to relax soon. Work at Farmer’s Home Furniture is going easier, now. I’m making more sales more often now that school is back in. I think my posters are working – I put up one page posters, with basic advertising, in many of the main education buildings, like Smith, the GAB, and the Math/Science Complex (MSCX for future reference). So far I’ve had three sales this week, one from today.

I just don’t want to go to Arby’s. I love it, its fun and upbeat, and I would much rather have those coworkers than my others here, but I can’t do it anymore. Four hours a week at seven bucks and immediately after Farmer’s, which is immediately after school…my ankle can’t handle that much time. Sure, I may sit down a lot during my three classes, but I stand for the entire duration of both choirs (two hours total), I have to go up and down a flight of stairs twice, and my job here requires that I walk around the floor with customers whenever they come in. Arby’s, I’m standing constantly, sometimes having to leap or half scamper across the kitchen whenever we have a heavy rush… My ankle is hurting so much already, I don’t want to move. I don’t want to get up and go anywhere, do anything, but sit at my desk and watch the clock roll by as I write.

But I did make up mind. Tonight will be my last night at Arby’s. Mrs. L. did ask that I let her know by today, and I will. Tonight, I’m done. I make enough at Farmer’s to, when combined with Jeff’s income (however miserable he may be), keep a roof over our heads and our electricity and internet on. We may not be too happy right now – me, because of the unfortunate truths of schools and abilities, and not getting to have kids right now; and him, because he’s also a musician, and he can’t find a teaching job, forcing him to have to flip eggs and bacon for seven bucks an hour – but we can make it. Not fancy, and definitely going without quality, but we can make it. One day at a time, one paycheck at a time.