Love comes in really strange packages.
Mine came in an eight pound fur infested type package.
Her name is Scout and she is all that is good in the world.
(Even though she is currently eating all of my good fountain pens)
In other news, grad school (or at least the program that I am going through) is not all it's cracked up to be. Of course, I would probably feel otherwise if I were at least studying something I had some sort of interest in:
"Never label your children. You do not have lazy students, you have students that often show signs of lazy behavior."
Excuse me? Who does that? Is she fo' real?
"Excuse me ma'am, but I am pretty gosh darn sure that I just have some freakin' lazy children. Just sayin'. "
However, there is always that glimmer of hope on the horizon. That silver lining that says, "No, Emily. You won't be there forever. Someday you will be able to study what you love, get married and have those 2.5 children and be that happy average American with the white picket fence, dog in the yard and smiling Bob husband."
And somehow, I esteem to be more than even that...
I don't think I'm settling.
You are my shepherd, teach me to want what You want for me...
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