We can mark today as the day I started the first semester, as thus far in my college career, that I’ve thought to myself, “I’m truly going to enjoy this.”
I’ve had classes in the past that have riled my interest: ENC, HUM, REL, and the like.
But this semester I have a Personal Wellness class that starts at 8 am. That means crisp, cool air for waking up early and getting prepared for the day. It means active days and some lectures. It means a grand teacher with a ton of great information that he is super willing to pass on.
I have a General Psychology course that has already began to twist its way into my heart. My professor is a stable woman that’s worked with domestic violence victims, has at least two masters, wears funky clothing, and hates technology with a passion. She’s precious and her favorite line is “knowledge is power.” Lady is after my own heart, just saying.
My final class that will be blowing my mind from 3:30 until 4:45, and I pray he keeps us that late each time, is Creative Writing. Yes. Creative writing. I’m going to be furthering my education through reading classics and taking a go at writing some of my own stuff. I’m going to be sharing my stuff and giving feedback on my classmates work. And I am SO excited.
However, I can’t lie. It was an extremely busy day. It started at 7:10-ish with Christopher, my boyfriend. We got ready, called Chelsea Coffee Company to order breakfast, paid and kissed each other good-bye. The traffic on the way to my first class was absolutely insane. And I had taken that specific road, specifically because I thought it would be the quickest way. Incorrect I was, along with another third of Ocala.
I walked into my last class with a latte, all the while texting my best friend who was telling me “go ahead. Walk in late with your latte.” The class lasted less than thirty minutes. I drove back to Chelsea’s and spent the morning with my best friend.
Its incredibly interesting each time my best friend and I get a large amount of time together. Seasons are in the air, new seasons with that of less time and possibly unbalanced time-frames. But, best thing to say is its all going to work out. And work out correctly and for the benefit of all parties involved.
Anyways, just sitting across from her, and watching the sunlight tickle her face as she giggled and talked about her brother and her dreams and old memories and nostalgic deep developments that had long been forgotten, it all just brought an intense amount of gratitude into my heart. The fact that this little woman is my best friend still blows my mind. Regardless of the weather, she stays as close to me as roots stay under a tree.
My next class was slightly uneventful, I can’t lie. I know it will get better once we all start having discussions but today was an hour and twenty minutes (which is five minutes over her limit) that I couldn’t have cared less about. When it comes to the syllabus, professors, just know we can read.
I had lunch with the handsome Mr. Henry in the beautiful downtown area of Ocala. A village salad with gyro meat hit the spot nicely. Talking to him about my day and listening to him talk about his day is something that I can’t ever see myself growing bored of. I’m extremely confident that our communication is one of our strongest traits and it is wonderful.
My last class was in the Fine Arts building, a building that I hadn’t been in since the second mini-master session in summer semester of 2013. I was extremely excited to divulge into the world of creative writing. I noticed there weren’t too many people in my class. The teacher walked in and made a joke about how he’s a cliche writing teacher with long hair, glasses, and how he came in with Starbucks in his hand. He is the spitting image of my boyfriend’s brother, but he’s the 35-ish year old version. It’s great.
That class has already taken the title of being my favorite class. Its an intimate setting of 9 people. 9 people who in some way all have a true interest in writing. There’s an ex-marine, there’s three or four girls that are obviously shy until they put a pen to a page, there’s a guy I met with my best friend in the downtown square, there’s a couple of more guys with interesting fashion sense, and then there’s me.
Its intimate and lovely. And I get to devote time to writing. For a grade. That’s crazy to me.
Regardless if it was a great day or not, which it was, I still felt stressed as I entered my house and thought of taking a nap. I realized how little that would probably do to help my stress. So I decided to go for a run.
Its insane how my body can force a desire so strongly. I had zero energy as I strapped on my nikes and tied my hair in a bun. I still didn’t have any energy as I warmed up with some weights. I didn’t want to feel the cool air against my skin. I just wanted to snuggle up and not wake up until work tomorrow.
But yet and still, I went for that run. And what I discovered was the beautiful feeling of being in control of my body as I picked up one foot and then another and then kept going and then saw the trees pass by me as I used old yoga techniques to keep my breath in line with my feet. I would pick up pace around the hills and slow down near stop signs. I would listen to music, but I finally came to a point where I wanted to hear the silence and the atmospherical difference of what running with and without headphones was like.
After my second breathless mile, I took off my headphones and walked into the sunset. I thought of Tammara, the little nine year-old girl that went from cousin to sister in the past two months. I thought of her well-being and how desperately I hope she can stay. I thought of my boyfriend and how incredible he is. How I’m extremely blessed to know him. I thought of my best friend and how we have always somehow been able to communicate accurately and well, with love and compassion. I stood under the swirls of pink and orange and thanked God for all of these things, all of these people.
And I listened to some tunes and sang my heart out, as weird as that probably was for my neighbors. And I snapped a photo of the dark trees against the pink sky.