Halfway through the first week of my senior year in college.
In a certain sense, I have never been a senior before.
As a home-schooled kiddo, I graduated a year early at 17. And to be honest, I pretty much just fucked around that whole year and then took my GED.
The bible school I went too was only a three year program. So I guess that third year was my senior year, but it doesn't quite feel the same.
I just got out of my first class for my senior seminar and am more than a little overwhelmed.
It's just a lot of work to do. A hell of a lot of reading. Plus, you know, the whole 30 page senior thesis.
I know I will be fine. I am a strong writer (I think) and a great scholar (I hope) and will really enjoy working on this once I get things going.
But I am a little panicked.
The professor chooses a theme and like some academic version of This American Life, we all have to write on that theme and interpret it as we see fit.
The theme this semester is the history of Labor.
Something that I don't really care all that much about.
I am a religious historian. I study and write about religion. I think I can make something work with Christianity and Marxism, but I guess I'll see how the research goes.
I am writing on here right now though because this is one of those moments when I realize how very much alone I am in the world.
I know I have a lot of support and there are a ton of people who will tell me that I am going to do a great job.
But I would imagine there is something different about having someone who really knows you, who understands your thought processes and the way you work. Having them look in your eyes and telling you that you got this and they will be here for you.
That's gotta be nice.
I have never had that.
It would be awesome to have that someday.
In the meantime, it's nose to the grindstone and work, work, work.
I got this.
7:36 p.m. - 2016-01-20
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