During my Homebound days, every adult in my life, including Eric, told me not to worry very much (if at all) about my grades or schoolwork. Recovering from Pseudomonas was way more important than some stupid high school grades, and it would take a lot of time, patience, and self-care to recover. 

Long story short, I spent a lot more time walking around and fishing at Clement park than I ever did on my schoolwork, and yet I was consistently getting A’s and B’s on my assignments. Including in subjects such as Algebra and Physics, which were things I never even considered I could succeed at, ever. Let alone get A’s and B’s in while doing the bare fucking minimum, academically speaking. 

When I graduated high school, on time, in the spring of 2019, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. But, college was far from my list of to-do’s. In fact, I felt physically nauseous whenever anyone asked me if I was gonna attend college. To answer their question I’d simply reply, “I’m taking a year off of school to get my ducks in a row.”, and leave it at that. 

But then, Trikafta happened. Almost immediately after I took my first dose of Trikafta (which was awesome, but very scary), the Covid pandemic happened (which was not awesome, and also scary). But, there was a silver lining to that pandemic: I got so bored and desperate to go outside again, that I vowed to sign up for college as soon as I got vaccinated against covid. 

Now, the past wasn’t behind me (far from it). I started attending community college believing that I’d immediately flunk out. But, I made a deal with my parents: I’d start college taking one class, and if I failed it, I could try something else outside of college. Except, I didn’t fail my Astronomy 101 class. I actually got a very high B in a class several students who’d mastered calculus claimed was the hardest class they’d ever taken, and my professor assured me that I was more than capable of succeeding in college.

Oh, if only I could believe them right then and there!