Six simple words, an easy request. But sitting in my Lit Journ class, reading those words on the bottom of the last assignment I handed in...those words were six jabs at my morale and any ego I possess in that class.
I legitimately thought I was going to die. My blood vessels were constricting and I felt deprived of oxygen. My head started hurting and I almost wanted to hurl on the girl in front of me.
My mind started working furiously. What could be wrong with it? Maybe I should just tell her this isn't my scene. I'll get her to sympathize with me and say that I'm still trying to get my floaties on before I swim in the big girl pool. Or I'll just switch majors completely. I mean, I love Anthropology. My counselor takes drop-in sessions right? I'll just switch majors. My Anthro prof spent time abroad in Sweden and Micronesia and that is WAY, WAY cooler than being some damn journalist. I'm not cut out for this and I know it! Don't kid yourself girl!
For one and a half hours I dramatically imagined the end of my little stint in litjourn and the process of switching over to anthro, which is, what seems to me, a much more do-able major.
But at the end of the class I sucked it up and talked to her and it was NO BIGGIE at ALL. She just wanted me to specify some more dates, next time...
"Sorry for the ominous-sounding note!"
"Oh no, haha..not at all..."
It's not like I killed myself over the anticipation of it. It's not like I thought that my skin would be hanging from your wall as evidence of another LJ student who would not cut it.
HEAVE SIGH.
After getting my sense of self back together and figuratively slapping myself in the face I have decided that yes, I am still sticking with LJ, though I DO need to learn to grow up and stop being such a little bitch.
I'm not as critical and over-analytical as some people are, I'm not as quick to judgment and I'm not as opinionated. I'm more rose-colored glasses when it comes to certain things and I'm more accepting of human accounts of events and humans in general. Does this mean I won't succeed?
And does the fact that I randomly find stringing words together enjoyable mean that I'm cut out for literary journalism?
No to both, I guess...well that's what I hope, all we can do is sit around and wait I guess.
What DID boost my faith was my English teacher emailed and asked to use my essay draft as an example for the rest of the class, cause it was "excellent". YEAH, WHAT UP.
Anyway. I realize the reason why I overreacted so crazily was because it's important to me. Somehow. Somehow it matters to me whether or not I can be good at this. Weird, huh?
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