So, here I am again. I think this is home sickeness, or it might just be the fact that I don't have a journal to write, or a stupid problem to deal with, or a test to study for, and I might just have too much time to think. I love college, and it's been so great. But there are minor difficulties. I don't feel as if I work as hard, and I need to study more, or work harder. I feel like I burt myself out in high school trying to work so hard to get here, that now I feel like I don't need to work anymore. Which is so bad. I feel as though I am going to fail one class, and sure, I can withdrawl from it, but that still shows up on my transcript. I don't know, I just want to be in my profession and almost fast forward through all of this hard stuff, but don't we all? I have and always will struggle with the unknown future, and decision making. I wish there were a caution sign, and a check list. That I could just check off everything I need to do to ensure that I will get into my major, and that I will get into grad school. I just hate not knowing, and I also hate my lack of trust in a God that knows everything that will happen in the future. I HATE that I can't trust him, when in reality, I don't need these checklists and cautions but instead just need that trust in him.
I miss Dee. I miss Brooklyn. I miss Carrie. I miss my dad. I miss my mom. I miss Jackie Luna, and Steph and Devin. I miss those three little Barnett munchins and their awesome parents. I miss all of those great people. This is why I think it is home sickness. I don't like my roommate, who was I thought at the time "a sign from God to come to UGA." She reminds me alot of a former friend of mine. I don't even know what to say. I do like my roommate Rachel. I don't think she knows exactly how much I enjoy spending time with her. She makes me feel at home, and she reminds me of traits from people from home.
HOME. home, home home. The meaning of this word has become so special to my heart. It reminds me of being home when my dad comes in the door and fixes himself a burrito with molded chicken, cheese and salsa. Or fixes himself a sandwich because my mom is sleeping in the bed already. It reminds of my brother's smelly feet and watching Wheel of Fortune every night, my mom telling us repeatedly Vana White is from North Murtle Beach, S.C. It reminds me of smelly Jasper jumping on my lap, wanting attention. I hate that in life, you don't learn to truly appreciate things until you are removed form them. My sister and I's relationship would not be nearly as great as it is now, if she had not gone to college. I remember when she left, I would cry every night. Missing her always. And now, crazy Emily has moved 2,218 miles further away from her. All of my roommates talk about going home, and I can't. I try not to bitter about it because it was my choice to come out here, and therefore I have no room to complain. Speaking of home, there are 64 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes and 39 seconds until I go HOME to California, where I am from and where my heart is. So, I apologize if I talk about missing home alot. You try living 2,000 miles away from everyone you love, has seen you grow up and knows you so well, then talk to me about my excessive complaining.
I had so many more emotions and thoughts running through my head, but as I got talking to my roommate, and realized I wasn't alone anymore, they went away. So on another day, where I have had free time to think, and be sad and depressive and home sick, I will blog about similar feelings. Thanks for semi-caring.
Love,
Em
