I’ve been finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on The New Plan. I did pretty well for a few weeks, but lately I’ve become far too complacent. Too many days have gone by where I’ve done absolutely zero studying, and I’m quite a ways behind where I wanted to be at this point. I discussed the matter with my father last week, as my father has this amazing gift of putting everything in perspective, and I’ve decided to go ahead with the GRE next month but wait until NEXT fall to apply to grad schools. Yes, I’ll be forced to stay in my current (shitty) postition for one more year, but it will give me far more time to prepare for the next step. Trying to complete this entire process at once has proven to be too stressful. I feel like it would be more beneficial for me to take the GRE this fall, then spend next year studying Russian with the aid of my former university profs, which hopefully would help me get the three recommendations that I need, plus give me time to gather writing samples and write my purpose statement, etc. More time to prepare = submitting a far superior application packet = more funding for my education in the form of a graduate assistantship. I hope that’s how the equation goes, anyway.

All this pressure as of late has been making me long for Home. This happens every time I start getting stressed out - for some reason, going Home to visit my family always feels like the right thing to do. My dad says it’s because at Home I can sit and do absolutely nothing and clear my brain and not think about anything, which is exactly why I love Home. It’s my escape. Luckily for me, I’ll be going Home on Friday to celebrate my gran’s birthday, as well as partake in Deer Season festivities. Deer Season has always been pretty important in my family; it’s almost like a holiday, really, as traditionally it’s been one of three or so times out of the year that my entire family comes together. Most families bond over the birth of Christ or the generosity of the Native Americans - mine bonds over the carcasses of dead deer. Go figure.

Abby and I went to see Borat on Sunday, and I almost pissed my pants laughing. Seriously - I giggled so much that I think I broke my face. It. Was. Amazing.