Journal Entry

I've convinced myself that good things don't happen to me. Opportunities don't fall in my lap like they do smart people or overachievers. Never having making honor roll has pretty much convinced me that I'm no scholar. I pride myself in using and speaking in proper grammar, and I'm a pretty darn good speller, but I've never been an overachiever. And for the most part, I've always been okay with that. I figured that there was a life out there for me, where my imperfect academic career didn't matter. School was for some people. But I knew I
But then I had an interesting day on Monday.
Garfield has always been my favorite fat, orange cat. Orange tabby cats with big green eyes are my favorite, mainly because of Garfield. What a cheeky little cat. Have you read the one where he watches the toaster and Jon says 'You know, Garfield, a watched pot never boils?' and as soon as Garfield turns around and says 'Huh?' the toast pops up?
Yeah, it's a funny one.
Either way, Garfield seemed to be the first character to ever truly hate Mondays. It was then instilled in everybody's mind that... Mondays suck, so we hate them.
But this past Monday was a pretty damn good Monday. So good that I guess it's hard for me to get used to.
I work from 8 to 12 every weekday. I then leave and come back later to work again in the afternoon. It equals at least 7 hours a day, if not then more. But I always find something to do on my breaks. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have a class so I come to school. On the other three days of the work week, I usually take a walk around downtown with my camera, or run errands that I don't have time to otherwise.
This Monday, I was walking around with my camera (working on a personal photography project), when I received a call from the University of Maine at Machias, the college I have been dreaming about going to for a while now.
On the phone, the woman was cheerful but I didn't know what to think at first. Do colleges usually call for rejection? After being rejected from the University of Maine in Orono during my senior year, I'm convinced that all schools will reject me. Why take me when they could take someone smart?
"I'm just calling to congratulate you on being accepted to the University for the fall of 2012.." The nice lady on the phone said.
I honestly think tears came to my eyes.
I've always been the kind of person who believed that, if someone really truly wants and deserves something they'll get it. But my spirit was broken when I was rejected from 'the college of my dreams' (UMO) two years ago. But this made me rethink things a little. I didn't get into that school for a reason... Perhaps it's really not for me. I learned this past year that it certainly is not. But now I got into a college that I really think I'll love, and I'll be able to get out of an area that doesn't make me very happy. And happiness is key.
Either way, I was accepted into a good school, and it's a pretty cool feeling. I was awarded a helpful scholarship. Blissfully, I took my camera for a walk and took some pictures.
I got another phone call, this time from my mom.
"So, I got a call from your sister, and I could hardly hear her because of all the meowing in the background.." Mom said, instead of saying hello.
I was confused at first. I didn't know what she was referring to. But then I realized... Did my sister have Pistachio, my cat that had been missing for two weeks?
Sure enough, my sister went to the shelter (even though I've been checking and calling every day since she went missing) and my cat was there!
So, my missing cat was found, and I got into a college that is sort of perfect for me.
All on a Monday. Has Garfield always been wrong about Mondays? Are they really that bad?
On this particular Monday, I was pretty darn happy, even if I am an underachiever.
I have a friend who won an award for being 'Most Outstanding Girl'. She won an all-expenses paid trip to Washington DC with other 'Outstanding Girls', and met President Obama. She then took a trip to Norway, and climbed the tallest mountain in Norway.
She's two years younger then me, and already her life is significantly more impressive then mine.
The furthest I've been is Texas, for a rodeo. I've always believed in the simpler things in life, and as deeply rooted in Maine as I am, I still yearn to travel. I may not believe that a degree is everything, but I still believe that learning is incredibly important, and I want to be a teacher. But I honestly don't think I can do it. School has always bored me to tears - and most of the time, it's like the information just bounces right off my forehead. But I know a lot of things about the world, and I do read plenty, but for some reason, I don't do well in school. It's the way I've always been.
But getting into this college not only excites me but scares me. I expect a letter in the mail that says 'Whoops! We made a mistake'. Because... as I've convinced myself... good things don't happen to me. Opportunities don't present themself to me. My friend who won that award, she didn't even apply for it. It just happened. She doesn't know how.
Me... My opportunities are much more hidden.
But is that an absolute bad thing? I've accepted now that comparing myself to others isn't going to help. They work hard for what they have, so I can't take that away from them, and I can't be jealous if the same doesn't happen to me. But I still am.
I've done a lot of studying and thinking about the flaws in human nature. I think that all the seven deadly sins are almost apart of human nature. Being jealous is a little normal - the extent of your jealousy is what makes it a sin. It's normal to be proud of yourself - it's the amount of your pride that makes you a sin. And so on and so on.
So I've accepted that my jealous tendencies are... normal. They're not a redeeming quality, but I honestly think it's normal. The girl who has everything can still be jealous of the girl who has nothing. But I've also learned that it's impossible to truly know who has gone through what.
So here is my roller-coaster thought process:
Good things don't happen to me. A lot of good things happen to me. But not as good as other people. But I don't know their whole story. But I'm still jealous of them. Perhaps they're secretly jealous of me. Being jealous is a pointless feeling, but then why do I still feel it? I wish I was more like them. But I'm not, I'm more like me. Perhaps I am who I am for a reason; perhaps I just forget sometimes.
You see? Although my thoughts are hard to follow and understand, I usually go to bed at night okay with who I am. Last night, Pistachio slept at my feet, purring loudly. Even if I lose all reasons to believe in myself sometimes, I at least know that someone needs me. I won't go on and list those who need me, but I can say that I know at least Pistachio does.