I haven’t posted something here in quite a while, but here I am! Honestly, I have been doing well in school, but the workload is crazy, and I’ve been dealing with a little depression. My wife and I’s small business has caught absolute fire, which is incredible, but it means she is home less than before.

            In terms of trust or whatever, I’m completely secure. The issue is that we both get depressed when apart for too long. I don’t personally mind, it’s just my physiological condition. Brain chemicals are crazy.

            We do enjoy the money, though.

            As two poor kids from different versions of the middle of nowhere, we may be the first of our families to not be in crippling debt. We are far from loaded, but we personally want very little, so it’s comfy. We have food and electricity. We know we can afford heat this winter. The dogs get their shots. It’s wild.

            I have spent more than a few winters in a beat-up mobile home with no heat. You hang blankets everywhere possible and create a little cube for your cheap ass electric space heater, along with you and your pets. If you know, you know.

Those Ocean State heaters with the infrared technology will annihilate your electric bill, by the way. They are cheap for a reason. Robbing Peter to pay Paul is the game, though.

            Not being broke has allowed me to focus more on my studies without a lot of background stress, and my work has been excellent. I do, however, have this one literature professor that I can’t get above a 90 from, no matter how well I write, and it is infuriating. She always finds some little parts of the work we are reading that I missed, and her eyes are like a hawk.

            I’m not mad at her, mind you, I’m frustrated with myself. Ever since getting eaten alive in an English course at community college, only to get an A by semester’s end, I take these courses very seriously. I love the challenge, as it only makes me better. If there is one thing my long, winding journey from fast food guy to student has taught me, it is that idle minds atrophy, so I want to be pushed.

            Speaking of literature, we have been reading Diderot, and it has introduced me to the concept of ‘writing for the desk drawer.’ The idea is to just write whatever you want, no matter how unorthodox, and then put it away without ever sharing it. I already do that, I suppose, but I have wild manic writing sessions in the same folder as a bunch of other stuff. I should organize my things.

            I have been trying to write more regularly, and I have a couple of things I am working on, but I am all in on having a strong senior year and graduating with honors. I normally obsess over my grades, but I have taken a more laid-back stance this semester, much to my benefit.

            I have also snail-mailed some folks that I haven’t spoken with in a while, and I am excited to hear back. It is hard to reach out to members of my family, in part, because of my brother. Even though I am ten years his junior, I get lumped up with him as “Sandy’s kids”, which means people often think I want stuff. Russ only reaches out to people when he wants or needs something. He and his wife are just like that.

            It is an interesting thing, but as a grown man, I am hopeful to separate myself from him in the eyes of others.

            One last thought on English. I tend to pull A’s in the subject, but at the same time, they are low A’s and they require a lot of work on my end (as you can see, my natural writing style is… informal). On the flip side, my other major, history, comes easily to me. I write well enough to woo a history professor but poorly enough that an English professor will always ask for more.

            This is getting long

            The point is, I fly by the seat of my pants, and as such, I have given little thought to what I want to go to grad school for, as well as whether or not I can even afford it. While history was always what I wanted to focus on, when I took my first literature class, I fell in love. Not just with the works themselves, but with the English language as a whole.     

            As previously mentioned, English requires me to do my best work, but I love it. Furthermore, my current school, an extremely affordable state university, has a master’s program in English with multiple concentrations. I am definitely going to scope the scene on that.

While I worry that the uphill battle will wear me down, or my depression and anxiety might rear their ugly heads, I think I want to keep this love affair with English going.

            I am an aging millennial, getting a bachelor’s degree in humanities, and I have no idea what to do next. Thankfully, my wife is an exceptional businesswoman, and she’s always hiring.

            This felt good, expect a couple more drops and be easy,

JTC