So yesterday marked the end of my semester. And to be quite honest, I am quite excited about it. It was one of those semesters that taught you one thing. For me, that was hard work mostly pays off.
This was the semester when I finally realized what I wanted to do with my life. When I realized that maybe being a psychiatrist wasn't exactly the best thing in the world for me. Double majoring wasn't exactly the answer for me, and I am sort of glad that I found that out now. This semester I put so much pressure on myself to be perfect, and to be great. But wanna know something? I was great all along. I didn't need years of schooling, and tons of degrees to tell me that I was.
I did however find something that means a lot to me. And that is writing. I believe to do something, you must be happy doing it. It doesn't matter what others think, or whether it makes sense. If you like it, and it makes you happy than you should do it. I realize that being a writer, whether it's writing the next novel or for the local paper is what I want. It may not be easy, and sure as hell it's not going to make the most sense to most people. But, I am the one doing it, so therefore I should be happy right?
Now that the semester is over, I am looking foreword to having some time to myself. Reading, writing for myself, and hanging out with my friends. I need to relax, and I am looking foreword to doing so before the spring semester.
So yeah, you can say that I made this semester my bitch.