Blue Roses

It's going to be 90 tomorrow. 90! It was in the 60s today. I'm getting whiplash, man.

Angel. Jooooooooooooooooooossssssssssssssssssssss! Why????? Meanie. <.pout> Not my favorite ending of a TV show.

Liss and I are going to make an appointment at Nordstrom Spa! Pedicures and facials. Wheeee! This is the summer of spas for me. June with Liss, July with Karey. And Karey and I are going to get hot stone massages. I am SO excited about that, I can't even begin to tell you. I'm not generally one for people touching me, but I'm trying to get over that. Feeling that blissed out has to help. <.g>

Next year. What on earth am I going to do? Seriously. What if I don't get in to grad school? I don't think I'll cry. I'll feel sad, but it won't be the end of everything. Then I'd look into teaching. I think I'll look into teaching before I hear from grad schools.

Shouldn't I have done this when I was 18? I feel like I'm doing a lot of things now I should have when I was 18. Better late then never, I guess.

Is teaching the job for me? Could I manage 18-30 kids, day in and day out? If I could, and I think I could, could I do it without terror before and after the work day? I get so freaked out before I do it, but am fine during. Is that a viable way to live my life? Would I get over it? Is this really what I want to do? Is speech what I want to do? I have no passion for it, but I have interest. Should I look for something where I have both, even if the passion is scary?

So torn. So torn. Ack!