The Worst Summer Ever

The Worst Summer Ever

I don't fall apart often, but when I do, I do so in spectacular fashion. I am nothing if not dramatic. I've always been a person with gigantic emotions, dramatic tendencies, and proclivity toward extravagant language. I feel everything on a magnified level- love, joy, sadness, and hate. Everything is a big deal to me. I am also good at avoiding things I don't want to do. Of course, I still do the generally unpleasant things that are required of life, but generally speaking, if I don't want to do something, I figure out how to avoid it. Unfortunately, this summer my unstoppable force met an unmovable object- Greek School.

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Bittersweet

Bittersweet

This season has been the definition of bittersweet. I loved everything about my life in Seattle- my friends, my job, my church, my students, my house, and of course, my city. To leave everything was a so huge I wasn't quite sure what to feel. Because at the same time, I was excited about everything about my new life- new friends, new jobs, new church, new apartment, and a new city to explore. Full of sorrow and joy at the same time.

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