Admittedly that is the only line I know from that poem, and I'm too lazy to look up the rest. But at the moment it seems to reflect the fragility of "hope." Random thoughts ahead.
I've always taken the "safe" path, in some ways. Because I knew I had to make sure I had housing and healthcare.
Someone asked me how I felt about my upcoming birthday, (three months away, yes, I love birthdays, don't judge), being closer to thirty and all that, and I said I feel like I'm finally at the age that everyone always assumed I was, so I don't really mind.
I had a very satisfying conversation with a professor yesterday who seemed to think I could just change up a scheduled meeting solely for him. I told him I had to balance the needs of the entire committee with my own (extremely) limited office hours. So he was like, do you have another part time gig? No, I told him, I'm a full time student. I'm writing my thesis. I'm taking a grad class. I facilitate two different student discussion groups. I'm on the Com Grad Student Council. I TA for an undergrad class. I also am an editor on the graduate journal. I think I probably forgot some things. But I was like, yeah, professor. I DO STUFF AROUND HERE. Lots and lots of important stuff.
It is nice to feel competent.
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