I have returned to school. I have not changed a thing, nor have I gone off on one of the many possible tangents of my frustration and flipped my education upside down.
This third year is augmented by my choice to finally figure out what to get as my first tattoo. I ended up with "Patience" on my inside of my left wrist, in a beautiful script.
I like it quite a bit, mostly because it is very simple and straight forward, and depending on who asks about it I can tell them a million different stories behind why I got it.
The one I stick to, and seems to work the best at avoiding jokes, is that I got it to remind myself to continue to patient. I do not wish to be patience embodied, but I also do not wish to always be it's contradiction.
Today was the second of three midterms I have been hastily preparing for. It was not so amazing, but I accept that as a consequence to beginning on bettering myself as a human being. Volunteer efforts are on their way, and my social skills are beginning to become somewhat more developed. There was also two essay written in a panic over the last few days, but for now it's behind me.
I feel very exposed, training to become a peer support counselor through the University. It's nearly a month long process, and after the training is done I won't be allowed to talk about what I do there much anymore. Confidentiality agreements end a lot of my best conversation pieces, although I do understand their importance.
The training is very group building, as there is 27-28 of us all trying to get along best we can. The icebreakers are sometimes funny and sometimes very heart-wrenching, and I am beginning to feel like there is someone underneath what I originally perceived myself as. Maybe this is all for the best.
