Thank You, Mom & Dad
I had to go to Greenville a couple days ago to pick up a suit I'll be wearing for the rest of the week as our SCSL-Clemson delegation will be trekking down to Columbia today for our once-a-semester session.
Feeling stressed, driving to Greenville in the middle of the afternoon leading into rush hour when I'd already been awake for 10 hours after having gotten very little sleep throughout the entire weekend was not my ideal way to spend the day. That sounds like a lot of complaining and it totally is. I was not having yesterday. I bumped my knee (it still hurts as I write this), it hurt to swallow, I jammed my hand on a doorknob, my rent was due before I left for Columbia, I had a major paper to write (I hadn't started), and it was my turn to provide dinner for the apartment and I'd totally forgotten. When I type all that out, it sounds like my day was miserable. But it really wasn't.
And I think I can attest that directly to my parents. When I got to the hospital where my mom works to pick up the suit, I didn't realize until after I left how nice it was to see her. I've gone home or seen my family very sparingly this semester with so much going on and I admittedly haven't called home as much as I would like to recently either. But I called my dad on the ride to Greenville and talked to him for 20 minutes and after such a crappy day, and knowledgeable of the long-paper-centric night to come, talking/seeing my parents calmed me down.
Driving back to Clemson, I had a totally different perspective on how my day went as I thought about how much they went through every day to provide a great living for my brother, sister, and I. They go to their jobs everyday, putting us first and they're always so happy to hear or see me and all I could think about was how stupid the assignment was in my 2:20 class.
Sometimes we need that subtle reminder to bring us back to earth. Everything's not always gonna' be peaches and cream, as Steve Miller says, and we have to take the bad days with the good. Although with parents like mine, how could I ever have a bad day.
Feeling stressed, driving to Greenville in the middle of the afternoon leading into rush hour when I'd already been awake for 10 hours after having gotten very little sleep throughout the entire weekend was not my ideal way to spend the day. That sounds like a lot of complaining and it totally is. I was not having yesterday. I bumped my knee (it still hurts as I write this), it hurt to swallow, I jammed my hand on a doorknob, my rent was due before I left for Columbia, I had a major paper to write (I hadn't started), and it was my turn to provide dinner for the apartment and I'd totally forgotten. When I type all that out, it sounds like my day was miserable. But it really wasn't.
And I think I can attest that directly to my parents. When I got to the hospital where my mom works to pick up the suit, I didn't realize until after I left how nice it was to see her. I've gone home or seen my family very sparingly this semester with so much going on and I admittedly haven't called home as much as I would like to recently either. But I called my dad on the ride to Greenville and talked to him for 20 minutes and after such a crappy day, and knowledgeable of the long-paper-centric night to come, talking/seeing my parents calmed me down.
Driving back to Clemson, I had a totally different perspective on how my day went as I thought about how much they went through every day to provide a great living for my brother, sister, and I. They go to their jobs everyday, putting us first and they're always so happy to hear or see me and all I could think about was how stupid the assignment was in my 2:20 class.
Sometimes we need that subtle reminder to bring us back to earth. Everything's not always gonna' be peaches and cream, as Steve Miller says, and we have to take the bad days with the good. Although with parents like mine, how could I ever have a bad day.
