Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

My days of freedom are over.  Tomorrow morning, I go back to school.  To university.  So I can travel down three more English courses along my road to becoming a graduate.

One might safely argue that I have never really been free; since the day I was born to two white-collar professionals—educators themselves—I have been a slave to the written word.  Language is my master.  It hovers over me, dark and ominous like the shadow of a whip-bearer, ready to strike me with a thousand lashes at the first sign of a comma splice.  Or a sentence fragment.  {Oh, wait…that was a sentence fragment.}

I am The Hypocrite.  Occasionally, I pester my own husband to go back to school…to get a degree; but I never nag for long.  I don’t blame him for not wanting to go back. I am the first to defend the pursuit of higher education, yet I turn around and become the first to bemoan my own “fate.”  But it’s not fate.  I could jump the track—change my course—at any time.

I’ve considered it—don’t think I haven’t.  Not a day has passed these last four months that I haven’t wished, if only silently, to drop out.  To unroll from my courses.  To skip town and head to L.A. where I would work as a waitress {not really a waitress, but a frustrated movie star waiting to be discovered}, living on love but not even that because Poor Kyle would never follow me to California.  It is a fantasy of mine, so if you’re an agent looking for unearthed talent, please email me here: camille[at]archiveslives[dot]com.  I am good.  Let’s talk.

But I won’t do that.  English won’t let me.  My roots won’t allow me to be a college dropout.  Even if I never get a paid job writing like some in-laws who shall remain nameless suspect; even if it takes me twelve years to graduate because I can’t stomach spending $1,000+ per class on a full course load each semester; even if my degree doesn’t launch me to the top of that mythical corporate ladder; even if nobody ever reads a word these arthritic fingers type…

…I still have to graduate.  I’m going to do it.  There’s no sense trying to talk me out of it.  That’s that.

So on this, the last day of freedom I never had, I broke some rules.

First, I alienated myself from approximately half the population of my hometown by proclaiming a political opinion.

Then, I refused to make my bed…

unmade bed…but only because I never left it all day, instead choosing to immerse myself in e-drama and an old classic…

Wuthering Heights(…which I’d never read until now).

And when I finally unglued myself from that place of comfort at oh, five in the evening…

White after Labour DayI went outside.  In public.  Wearing white. After Labour Day.

How’s that for sentence fragments, slave master?

I’m all kinds of faux pas these days.

Ready or not, school—here I come.

About Camille

I'm Camille. I have a butt-chin. I live in Canada. I was born in Arizona. I like Diet Dr. Pepper. Hello. You can find me on Twitter @archiveslives, Facebook at facebook.com/archivesofourlives, instagram at ArchivesLives, and elsewhere.
This entry was posted in introspection, my edjumacation and me, self-actualisation, woe is me. Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

  1. DeAnna says:

    Good luck tomorrow! School isn’t really all bad. Occasionally I miss school, and when I say school I really mean college…high school is something I was glad to be done with. I actually loved college, weird as that sounds. There was just something about it that to this day makes me want to go back, which I will do one day, in about 2-3 yrs when both of my children are in school. Until then I will just live vicariously thru others.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Again with the puffy lips.

  3. Whitney says:

    OK I think that whole white after labor day is a crock. hello Its till a bazillion degrees in Az. Why on earth would I wear warm colors in a HOTTER than hot climate? And good luck with school tomorrow. It will feel so good to get it done. You will forever feel accomplished.

  4. Chloe says:

    “Like a lamb to the slaughter”: that’s exactly how I felt when I was waiting outside the interpreting lab, until the professor arrived… And then… I was the lamb there, alone, and staying in a 1 square metre booth performing simultaneous interpratingfor 2 or 3 hours while the professor criticized me and made me feel stupid was the slaughter. What a nightmare!
    But I can assure you that the end is near. And you’ll have your English degree finished soon! :)

  5. Rachel says:

    Maybe this is a ridiculous question but what is the ‘not wearing white after labour day’ thing about?

    Hope today isn’t as bad as you are expecting!

  6. malia says:

    white after labor day my great grandma was insistent.
    good luck with classes!

  7. Katie says:

    You are such a rebel, Camille. I can see the waves you are making all the way down here in Connecticut!

  8. TeamHaynes says:

    I feel your pain. Every single year without fail I would cry the night before school started. Even in college. Can you guess why I didn’t finish? School to me is an impending doom. You are not alone, trust me!

  9. God you make me laugh. Your blog is always so refreshing to an “old” lady like me. You’re right about school; no one EVER regrets getting a degree.
    And the best Rebellion is always in the little things, so wear that white and leave that bed unmade! You go Girl!

  10. molly says:

    Giving kudos for wearing white after labor day. I never have even considered that rule when dressing, but they did talk about it on “the view” yesterday. :)

  11. jami says:

    Good for you. I used to hate school. Before I got married, and then even after. BUT THEN I dropped out, had a baby, and stayed home to nurse her for the first year of her life (yeah, call me the typical mormon).
    I am now back in school, and I LOVE it! I don’t know what happened, but I seriously look forward to it. Adult converstation that doesn’t revolve around diapers, and getting mad at your husband? It is amazing. I get to use my brain for other things than cooking and cleaning. I am not kidding. I think the only cure for hating school is a kid…hahah!
    other than that…have a great first day of school, and I think you are a great writer, that will make millions one day! (was that a run on sentence? Please help my grammer next time you see me)

  12. RatalieNose says:

    Um did you know that the face you made in that last picture is probably my favorite face ever that I use all the time in pictures? Cause it is.
    Camille, I’ve come to a conclusion:
    You are going to take over the world, one run on sentance at the time.

  13. HeatherPride says:

    Ugh, I feel all anxiety ridden for you. I hate the beginning of school. Good luck!

  14. niki says:

    hope your first day went well. can’t wait to hear all your exciting stories about guys running toward you with intentions to kidnap and rape you;)

  15. Rachel says:

    Sentance fragments. Are. The best.

  16. Debbie says:

    Ok, I was writing a comment about how nice it was to graduate before having kids, and then my one year old hit the keyboard and deleted it. So have fun whatever you’re doing. I’ve got one in high school, one in middle, one in elementary and a one year old. So I’m glad i’m done with my own school. Last night I got to help write an essay comparing Life of Pi and Secret Life of Bees, so it never really ends.

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