Almost daily I question my English Major. But i don't know what else I'd do that makes any sort of realistic sense. English majors are weird. I'm not stoked to teach. I don't adore lit enough to read it when not forced. I hate grammar. It has no depth. I have a hard time understanding poetry.

BUT.

I could spend hours in bookstores. Hours.

The key to my heart is a fresh journal.

And I love art. I love things that make your soul come alive and tell a story and mean something and express something significant to the author. But I can't dance in rhythm. And photography is expensive. And music is out of the question. And painting doesn't come naturally. And most everything else leaves me frustrated more often then not. But writing is different. You know that scene in the Notebook where Ali tells Noah on their date that when she holds a brush in her hand the rest of the world just gets kind of quiet?

For me that's writing. I don't think I'm particularly good at it. i have no idea what I would do with it professionally. I'm not ever planning on using it for anything other than an outlet. But writing just comes. It flows. It makes my world go quiet. I may have no idea what is going on or how to process anything I am dealing with and somehow by the time I'm done writing it all down everything just kind of shifts into perspective and my world makes sense again.

So maybe I'm not the world's worst English major huh?