I’m a word girl. Always have been. I love books and writing. I’ve always been a fan of the creative arts.  Ever since I took the leap and went back to school to pursue a degree, I’ve aimed my goals toward that point on the academic compass. 

When we PCS’d to a new duty station, I had to transfer schools. I’m not going to lie, it wasn’t the smoothest transition. 

When I began, I elected to take many sophomore level classes as a freshman, such as children’s literature and creative writing. When I transferred, these courses (and many others) were turned into elective credits at my new school. 

Let me say that again, so it really sets in: the beloved books such as Charlotte’s Web and Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, as well as the personal works of fiction that I had spent a year immersing myself in were labeled as some sort of jaunty romp through nothingness, rather than as legitimate credit toward my English degree. My passion, drive and incredibly hard work had amounted to Underwater Basket Weaving 101 in the eyes of my new college. 

I wanted to weep. 

As a result, I ended up receiving an associate's degree in general studies. I know, how classy and educated does that make me sound? Now, as I’m harvesting my educational chi to, once again, dive into the crashing waves of full course loads and $300 worth of rented textbooks, I find myself questioning my choice of curriculum. 

Do I attempt to return to English and creative writing? On one hand, those are things that I love and cherish, and have the most fun with. Or do I embrace the suck (as it were) and avoid the serious possibility that I will have pigeonholed myself, once again, into scholastic heartache? 

Decisions, decisions.