In four days, my time in College Station will come to an end. A definite, final, complete end.
I'm sitting here at my computer, thinking about the past three years (roughly three, anyway) that I have been here. I'm musing over the things that I have seen, the people I have met, things that have happened to me. It's a wonder how anyone can manage to keep themselves at least relatively composed when they go through so much.
Between the loss of family members, hurricanes and some rather disappointing trials of love, it is some kind of marvel that I am able to look back on the past few years and consider my life a lucky one. But I AM lucky. I have my life, I have fair health, I have a small, tightened group of friends who mean the world to me.
I do, however, feel like my writing is lacking in quality lately. Something happened recently that has made me doubt my own abilities. As much I tend to pride myself on being able to thrive without the approval of others, it really does hack my nerves when someone knocks on something that I have spent quite a bit of time writing. I'm one of the first people who will criticize my own work, and I know I am not an impeccable writer, but what happened is an insult to me. It isn't personal, but as a writer, I am fairly unsettled.
With all of that being said, I'm soooo ready to move home. I am sad to be leaving College Station for a few very good reasons, but moving on to this next chapter in my life is much less daunting than it previously was.
I have to say, I'm pretty thrilled to be enjoying some damn good home cooking for a little while...
