On this Journey

I'm like a burned piece of steak.

Very. Well. Done. With school! yessssssss


(until August. Or if I really truly do take online summer classes....haven't quite figured that out yet)

This is how my past 36 hours have been:

Went back to Primary for my last day of orientation (I told you they orient you A LOT). Also, I love it there. There is something wrong with how much I enjoy being in a hospital. In fact, I enjoy it so much that after leaving Primary I drove over to IMC in Murray to surprise a dear friend. She was surprised.
 
   Then, I went home and studied nutrition then New Testament then nutrition nutrition nutrition then New Testament then nutrition. Then I went to sleep. And woke up this morning. And studied more. And then I went to Provo and took my last two finals. And bought some more yellow envelopes. And some chocolate covered cinnamon bears, because they are my mom's favorite. Then I went to my apartment for the last time. And all my roommates were gone. So I packed up the last of my stuff, scrubbed the bathroom, vacuumed the floor, and checked the mail (my new swim suit had arrived, hallelujah!). Then I closed the door and said goodbye quietly to myself, since no one else was around to say goodbye to.

After tossing the box with my new suit on the passenger seat atop a million odd things from my apartment (such as several pots, a throw pillow, a jar of apricot jam, and two hand weights), I got in my car and happened to glance over at the package. This is what it looked like:

It says "This part of my journey is complete."

Whaaaaat???? If that isn't the most ironic thing I ever did see, I don't understand irony very well. From this I felt three things:

1. ModCloth sends things in awesome boxes.

2. ModCloth should write all the fortunes for fortune cookies. 

3. I am going to be okay. 

Regardless of where I end up for school, or in life, or what decisions I make, I am going to be okay. All the hurt and the worry and the stress and the tears of this past year are done. Complete. But my journey is still going, stretching out in front of me like a yellow brick road of potential. And with a click of my ruby red slippers, I am at home again.