Here’s a shocker for all of you: I never went to college.
Never ever. Instead I moved to Costa Rica and taught English and art (but that’s another story for a different day).
My basic thought was that I had no idea what I wanted to or where I wanted to be, so why waste the money and time especially if it turned out to be completely different from what I wanted?
So to me, September means cool mornings easing into hot days, colors starting to show on the trees, sweaters being dug out, and school buses clogging the roads (sidenote: I still have trouble not calling the roads here “streets”).
School here starts in another two weeks, and while I miss the anticipation of heading back to classes and the excitement of fresh pencils, I like to admire what I’ve been able to accomplish without a college degree. I mean, I have a job that lets me drive rescues and ambulances, go into burning buildings, and save someone’s life. Literally, I have pretty much the coolest job ever.
And, I’m still heading back into classes in the beginning of September on top of a full time job, fire department duties, AND a photography business (because the last time I piled all that on my plate I wanted to run into traffic ONLY every other day). To be fair though, last time my work schedule coincided HARD with my class schedule (as in: 4 hours of usually incredibly sweaty and strenuous class straight into a 24 hour shift; wash and repeat). So, yes, I guess I will get to experience some of the back to school fun, but with an added dash of stress and a subtraction of getting to play outside after my homework is done. (But at least I can do my homework with a side of wine, so there’s that).
This time last year, I was miserable, working two full time jobs (80 hours a week). Then my aunt died, and I realized that someone had to die in order for me to see my family. I attended 6 funerals in 6 months last year. My aunt’s death basically slapped me in the face, and I quit my job the day after we returned from her funeral. When I called the Fireman in tears on my way to work because I’d had it UP TO HERE with the BS my boss was dealing out to me, and asked if we’d be ok financially if I quit, I could almost hear the relief in his voice as he told me that I had to do what made me happy and he supported me in my decision (that guy, y’all, how I love him).
Basically what I’m saying is September is a glorious freaking month…a month for new beginnings, fresh pencils and apples (sorry, I love apples in the fall).
Oh, and apple pie.
And county fairs.
And pig races.
I’ll let you go now.
PS: I apologize for my strange stream of consciousness writing today. I think all the salt air I breathed yesterday went straight to my head.