I have been taking classes this year at the local community college to prepare for returning to school FOR REAL. Like, all the time, actually move away to go to school 24/7, just like I did the first time around. But, this next time around at school, I'll hopefully be walking away with my masters. And, they don't have any programs around here in what I want, so I'll have to move away from home.
Goodbye sweet little house with cows in the pasture behind my backyard fence.
Goodbye kids playing soccer in the empty lot two streets over.
Goodbye all my neighbors that just had new babies. (The stork bombed my street this spring.)
Goodbye sidewalks that are so nice to walk on in the evenings with my dog.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
I'll be moving into my mom's and dad's house in just a few short weeks.
And, as soon as classes are over and I've moved, I'll go back to working full time.
I like work. I like working. I like ending my day knowing that I've done something productive (I'm one of those people that gets much more done in a day if I have something scheduled than if my whole day is wide open. I just end up wasting THE WHOLE DAY.)
However, I took a lot of tough classes this year. Yes, some of them were classes I've taken before (for the programs I want to get into, pre-reqs have to be within the last five years). But, it was a lot of hard work. And somehow, I'm not able to get excited about finishing school just to return to work full time.
I want a vacation to get excited about. I used to teach, so I toally got spoiled abandoning my homestead during the summer and traveling the world. And, last year, even when I was no longer teaching, I had balls enough to ask for a whole month off to go on vacation. (It helped that my boss is a good friend and we were actually going on vacation together.)
I want something to look forward to. (And don't tell me that my birthday's coming up...I'm well past the age I get excited about those anymore.)
Maybe something like this—Rome!
Or this. . .
Venice!
Or someplace that looks like this. . .
and this. . .
that has signs that say this. . .
Whatever…
I’m not picky…
just spoiled…
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