I have a better idea of the vista at the summit.
Which, now, is just over three semesters away.
I don’t know if I can pull my history grade up to an A from a B.
I don’t know if I can pull my French grade up to an A from an A-.
My other two classes I’m not too worried about.
I talked with a professor today about classes I’m trying to decide on.
I meet with my advisor tomorrow.
I spoke with another professor a few weeks ago about life plans.
I would love to write short stories and essays for literary journals.
It would also probably be helpful to teach.
Right now, I’m pondering a contemporary adaptation of Shakespeare’s Othello with a group from one of my classes. We’re piecing together the scene on Thursday and performing it next Tuesday.
I’m also thinking about Ernest Hemingway and how much I liked reading “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” for history class. It has some of the most beautiful writing I’ve ever read.
There’s a quiz in French tomorrow.
I have to write a response paper on the acquisition of knowledge as it pertains to Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia.
Sometimes I wish I could just be done with school.
But, I’d have nowhere else to go.
At least not now.