I completed my first semester of college. My last final was Saturday the 24th. This semester, my wife and I attended classes together.
Last semester was a fiasco. I started out with three classes. All online. TERRIBLE IDEA. I dropped one, bailed on another and failed the last.
This semester I revisited the one I dropped, Basic Sociology, and shot for a passing grade in Advanced College Algebra. The results? Drum roll: I got a B in Math and probably in Soc as well. My wife? An A in Math and quite likely in Soc too. Smart girl. I dare say too smart.
She's decided to go for nursing, continuing this Fall after a Summer sabbatical. I intend to enjoy the summer with her.
Come Fall, I hope to have my career sorted. I came to the conclusion that any job in a hospital is not a job for me. I'm thinking that my criteria of mobility, job security, and income will be met by a career in plumbing.
I was inspired recently by our apartment complex's maintenance man. If not Plumbing, our desire for a house will provoke me to pursue Heating and Air Conditioning instead.
Now that school is out, I give myself two weeks to regain my sanity before looking into a counselor. Seriously. Also, Fridays are mine and mine alone. I should be doing most of my blogging on that day of the week for now.
The Beating...
The speeding feet in the pounding rain. The perpetual beat of a heart. Pounding blood. There is a cave in my heart.
Stepping out of the rain, into the shadows, the noise transitions from the wash of the cloudburst to the flow of your anxious blood. Then to the pounding of your heart. It's so loud. Terrifying, yet trusted.
The roar is overwhelmed by the beating. The beating of dark membranes. You have disturbed them. You are enveloped by their plethora of leather-silk wings. Neither bird nor beast, the ostracized. Bats. After they have settled, you see the moonlight reflected in two tapetums. The truth in those eyes, is it familiar to you? Or should you be frightened? How many lives has this creature lived?
Come in, friend. Step closer, enemy. You were washed by the rain, rinsed by the darkness, dried by the wings, and clothed. By a purpose.
Am I a panther? Am I the dusk?
Stepping out of the rain, into the shadows, the noise transitions from the wash of the cloudburst to the flow of your anxious blood. Then to the pounding of your heart. It's so loud. Terrifying, yet trusted.
The roar is overwhelmed by the beating. The beating of dark membranes. You have disturbed them. You are enveloped by their plethora of leather-silk wings. Neither bird nor beast, the ostracized. Bats. After they have settled, you see the moonlight reflected in two tapetums. The truth in those eyes, is it familiar to you? Or should you be frightened? How many lives has this creature lived?
Come in, friend. Step closer, enemy. You were washed by the rain, rinsed by the darkness, dried by the wings, and clothed. By a purpose.
Am I a panther? Am I the dusk?
THE PLAN for Labels
CHARACTERS are influential people in my tales.
BROWN is tales from a span of ages.
WHITE is tales from age 0-7.
RED is tales from age 8-14.
ORANGE is tales from age 14-21.
YELLOW is tales from age 22-28.
GREEN is tales from age 29-35.
BLUE is tales from age 36-42.
INDIGO is tales from age 43-49.
PURPLE is tales from age 50-56.
BLACK is tales from age 57-63.
Grey is an insight into how these tales may be affecting me.
BROWN is tales from a span of ages.
WHITE is tales from age 0-7.
RED is tales from age 8-14.
ORANGE is tales from age 14-21.
YELLOW is tales from age 22-28.
GREEN is tales from age 29-35.
BLUE is tales from age 36-42.
INDIGO is tales from age 43-49.
PURPLE is tales from age 50-56.
BLACK is tales from age 57-63.
Grey is an insight into how these tales may be affecting me.
Blog Archive
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
College
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