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I have found somewhere where I belong. It's a place where...
I smile at someone, knowing that they'll smile back. If they don't, someone else will smile at me soon and everything will balance out.
I'm asked for directions twice in three days and don't feel paranoid, which for me is saying something. Even more interesting, I know where they're going or how to direct them to better advice.
The cafeteria food isn't great, but it has variety, and I know easily how to find better.
In the field...
I feel like every sore muscle is worth it when I'm being helpful--and I always want to be helpful, even while I'm tired and it's 100+ F in the shade.
One interesting find gets us leftovers sent by the VIP cooks for lunch. A couple more gets us sent popsickles, with the promises of more sometime next week.
I live in dirty clothes, have more bugs crawling on me in one day than a normal month, and yet I'm not icked out.
I just...I'm happy here. I've had a few bad moments, but I know the key to success. And I doubt my schedule next semester could be even half as stressful. I belong. Am I home? Maybe. But I belong, and that's good enough for me.
[Dark Mongrel, on the other hand, has been making plans for our roommate's whipped cream, the dig site, and the Trench of Eternity.]
I'll have more-story out soon, I promise. I'm just having trouble dealing with the Aunt Marge chapter. After this, things will flow more smoothly.
I smile at someone, knowing that they'll smile back. If they don't, someone else will smile at me soon and everything will balance out.
I'm asked for directions twice in three days and don't feel paranoid, which for me is saying something. Even more interesting, I know where they're going or how to direct them to better advice.
The cafeteria food isn't great, but it has variety, and I know easily how to find better.
In the field...
I feel like every sore muscle is worth it when I'm being helpful--and I always want to be helpful, even while I'm tired and it's 100+ F in the shade.
One interesting find gets us leftovers sent by the VIP cooks for lunch. A couple more gets us sent popsickles, with the promises of more sometime next week.
I live in dirty clothes, have more bugs crawling on me in one day than a normal month, and yet I'm not icked out.
I just...I'm happy here. I've had a few bad moments, but I know the key to success. And I doubt my schedule next semester could be even half as stressful. I belong. Am I home? Maybe. But I belong, and that's good enough for me.
[Dark Mongrel, on the other hand, has been making plans for our roommate's whipped cream, the dig site, and the Trench of Eternity.]
I'll have more-story out soon, I promise. I'm just having trouble dealing with the Aunt Marge chapter. After this, things will flow more smoothly.