Tomorrow a new school year will begin. Year three of my four year dual degree Graduate program in Seminary. I had hoped to be writing this post full of energy and yes maybe even excitement. Instead I find myself writing in pajamas that I admit I have not changed in the last 48 hours, with a tiny bit of a fever still lingering, and a completely foggy brain from said fever/a slew of over the counter and "behind" the counter remedies. I am sick. I have been sick since Thursday. But my fever is down to a somewhat "normal" range so I will venture out tomorrow and try my hardest to make sense of whatever ramblings come out of my new professors mouth. Can you sense my excitement!?
Honestly I would be excited sans weird virus bug thing I am dealing with. I think. Truth be told I'd still be a bit leery about going back to class this year regardless of my health. I will inevitably be faced with the dreaded question, "How was your summer?" Already when running into peers I have not seen in months I have dealt with this question. What exactly do I say? Here are three options I have come up with;
1. The "truly honest" response: Not so great, my Dad died.
2. The "ignore the tough stuff and just give them what they want" response: My internship was great!
3. The "super sarcastic and awkward look evoking" response: It was great, you know, aside from that whole Dad dying part. That really put a damper on things.
4. The "what I'd really like to say but would never actually in my right mind say" response: Are you seriously asking me that because I thought we were at least Facebook friends but apparently you didn't have time to check that! My Dad died.
The way I see it #1, 3, & 4 all cause extreme awkwardness for the person posing the question. However, Response #2 makes me feel horribly awkward.
It feels weird going back to life as usual with school. This summer I had my internship to focus on after Dad passed but it was all new. I am realizing that last Spring semester is all a big blur because of Dad's illness and flying back & forth to KY so many times. This semester I will be taking my first United Methodist class. Just thinking about it makes me miss Dad like crazy. He would love to hear all about what I was learning. He would love to try and correct everything I was learning. He would love to be the one teaching the class. The humor of that thought will have to sustain me through my first day tomorrow.
I'll keep you posted about how I respond to the dreaded question. You just never know! Year three of grad school certainly makes me a lot more confident to speak my mind-yikes...this could be a dangerous year!
