Oh, please let it not be so. Apparently I am becoming a trend follower in every possible way, as, after many, many delightful years of never having anything approaching a serious stomach illness… I think I might have the very beginnings, the quivering upstart, of the flu. I’m hoping it’s not. I am optimistic that it is not the flu, absolutely not really the flu. NO FLU HERE. I’m going to get something to drink. A lot.
In other news, classes are DONE! Woo-hoo! No more 8:30 Spanish… until next semester, sigh. Also, I was somewhat surprised to discover that I had only one *actual* full faculty member this semester (my Geology prof – an assistant professor of geology). Otherwise, I had three grad assistants (Spanish, Geology Lab, and Western Civ) and Valk, whom I had assumed a professor, but is actually a lecturer and advisor. Still, I love him best. I discovered this by going downstairs to retrieve my paper today (there was a note on the door to the four of us still owed papers – it said, “Drat – still not done. They will be tacked up here by 3 p.m. tomorrow. Je apologise” except in the correct French).
Here’s where I get to the real point. I wandered about in the halls of the English professors and lecturers, after making my pass through the main English office, for a while. This is the second day, in fact, that I’ve been through this area (having had to drop off the paper copy yesterday, which is a long story in and of itself). I loved it down there, and had some momentary fantasies of having a comfortable little English department office, or of joining in with the group of three students discussing something amusing and interesting with a professor/lecturer. Then, upon leaving the building, I happened to get behind a couple walking sort of slowly down the sidewalk. I was feeling kind of slow myself, so I was just hanging out behind them, thinking about English and writing and all. They were a sort of memorable looking couple – a short, tan woman and a very tall, very pale, very bald man – and I suddenly realized where I’d seen them. I’d seen them in the newspaper, when they’d been accepted on as faculty members at KU. The article was particularly interesting to me because he had just had a short story selected as an O. Henry award winner, and she’d had a story given honorable mention for the same prize. They were both in the English department – she started this semester, and if memory serves, he starts next semester. She was talking about her classes and what their feedback on her workshops with them had been, how they’d thought they were good and useful…
So, I don’t go much in for signs in serious things and big decisions. Sometimes I let random things sway me in little decisions, but often my big decisions are sort of preset. Still, recently, I’ve been seeing these signs (again) about how unfortunate my choice in a major has been. Journalism was closer to what I wanted, but not close enough to make me happy. Political Science was the major I chose first in high school and stuck with mostly out of ease; I kept it at KU because I wanted *out* of school so badly. Now, I’m kind of sad. I think if I’d had a whole batch of classes that had spoken directly to things I’m interested in and feel value in improving my skills in, I wouldn’t have been so hasty to leave. In short, I’m questioning my whole plan of attack again, and it’s making me absolutely miserable. Misery! Misery. This has been going on for a while, and I’ve wanted really desperately at different times to discuss it with someone and to never have anyone know that I’m wondering it. For all of the faults I might find in the studies I’ve done, I really *do* look forward to law school.