On my way back from Thanksgiving (a 2 hour drive in the rain), about the time I got to Birmingham, I came to an important realisation. I've been telling people cooking gives me the illusion of being in control of my own life...but here's the thing. I AM in control of my own life.
I am in control of how much estrogen is in my body (apparently, and I could do without this minor annoyance and the various estrogen-reducing foods, only the tea of which I particularly like), I am in control of my grades, where I go, what I eat, and hopefully, what university I attend. I am in control of what I say or do not say in class, and I'm not doing entirely badly with that. I hope. I am in control of how people perceive me, and I hope I'm not intimidating people. I try not to, but I'm not feminine and for whatever reason, whenever I'm remotely confident, I can make people listen to me. (Which is baffling.)
If that isn't being in control of my own life, then what the hell is?
You know, I'm not so sure it's such a bad thing. Because...all things considered...I'm not doing such a bad job.
I'm also in control of how I get home for winter break. I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about it, because I think I can get my last exam--which is on Thursday night--moved to Tuesday, when the other session is. I need to ask the professor about that, but he's pretty easygoing. Which means I've bought myself Thursday to get home, which should be doable.
I'll need to get packed after my exam on Wednesday, but no problem there. I can do some packing this weekend. I don't have that much. I'll need to leave at the ungodly hour of 6:30, so I can get to Atlanta around 10am, where traffic should be at its friendliest. (Read: lightest.) Which would mean I'll get home just after lunch, probably in time to meet my little sister coming home from school. (I should probably let her, at least, in on my plan...so that somebody knows what's going on should I run into any unforeseen issues.) Which will surprise and very likely piss off my mother, but frankly, I think it's the most SANE option. Because she's talking about driving to come pick me up. And it'll throw a HUGE wrench into her plans, I'm sure, but she's NEVER going to let me make the drive by myself unless I prove it.
I'm in control of my life when I'm driving. I'm in control of how I react to traffic, and usually I choose to be easygoing. Why get mad? You'll get there eventually, and getting stressed just wears you out.
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Rantings and Grumblings
In which: I rant about whatever suits my fancy.
Elysion Dawning
Community Member |
Currently:
Elysion, mildly apathetic low-ranking angel.
Recently moved to a small cottage in ante-purgatory.
Hopes the distance will make it easier to ignore the perpetual singing.
Elysion, mildly apathetic low-ranking angel.
Recently moved to a small cottage in ante-purgatory.
Hopes the distance will make it easier to ignore the perpetual singing.