School’s in two weeks. Terrified shitless. Seriously. Don’t tell anyone, but I am. So much so, that I’m having trouble thinking about it. Because I can’t really come out and be like, “Oh, yeah, right. So, that thing I’ve been bandying about for eight months, yeah that—I’m really, really terrified I’m going to go, and screw up in the social scene, miss all my classes, not understand what the HELL the teacher’s saying, and flunk out after spending nearly twenty thousand dollars on it.”
But, oh, no! I also am going to be there a week early for the rugby camp, which although is awesome will KILL me because I’m in terrible shape. But, I think that if the seniors on my team think I can do it, I’ll be able to. I do work my ass off in practices to get better. Literally. I’m in the best shape I’ve been in since I was dancing. Even against that, I think I’m stronger than I was then. I lost my flexibility, though, and I’m terrified when I go into tackles against anyone but a Sherwood girl or my own team. I don’t hit hard enough. Ever. I’m always afraid to do it. Oh well. I’ll learn or fall behind, and since I’m competitive, I don’t think I will fall too far before I get sick of not playing.
About school, though, I’m afraid that I’m going to alienate everyone because I am a bit of a creeper and do mass amounts of research on people before I even know them, just because it bothers me to not know them. And then I don’t tell them that I’ve done mass amounts of research on them, because “Hi, yeah, you don’t know me, but I know everything about you, including your dog’s name and you’re minute of birth” is a really bad pickup line.
I feel like a bit of a creeper, but I can’t help it. It’s a safety thing. I just don’t like not knowing who I’m up against. Seriously, if I were in any part of the government, it would be in the spying section.
It’s weird. And I damn well know it.
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