Looking back on the Summer of 2012

The days turn into weeks, and the weeks to semesters, and then they end abruptly.

And so Summer semester, 2012, slams on its brakes and screeches to a halt, vanquished to our memories.  

A lot’s happened in twelve hot, sticky weeks.

A bunch of people got tragically killed, their only crime going to see a Batman movie. George Jefferson died at 74. The Marlins gave up on their season. I saw the Alamo in San Antonio and hung out in cool bars in Austin. I also got stranded in Dallas. The Olympics got underway and Michael Phelps retired as the most decorated Olympian ever. (That's not a bad title to carry around). Football season is here.

I quantified myself, instructed someone, proposed an app and did a project for my office. (I also learned why I don’t put the Oxford comma in a list such as this). I learned a lot about technical writing. I learned that it's bigger than I thought it was. I used to have this image of a tech writer as being a guy who labored over computer programs and tried to explain to you how they work. Now I know that any sort of explanation of any process can fall under the label of technical writing. 

The four assignments in this class each presented a challenge. I tried to cater them to my work envronment because technical writing seemed to be something that would have a very practical bent. The Service Learning one was the project I liked the best, and the one I'm really going to get a lot of use out of. The Propose an App flustered me from the beginning, and still does at the end.   

I registered for thesis. I have 18 graduate hours.

Last night I told Star that I wish there was a way we could quantify ourselves from the day we set foot here to the day we graduate and measure how we’ve changed in thoughts and outlooks. I bet we’d be amazed at the results. Last night Veronica said the end of a semester could be bittersweet, and she’s right. I never looked at it like that.

Last night I felt Shannon’s baby move and was again amazed at the magic of life.

Every semester comes and goes and with every change in season we change along with it.  Maybe we change against it. But we change. Every semester has its stories, its successes, its failures. Some of them linger. Most don’t. 

In hindsight, I probably should not have gone to school this semester. A break would have been good, especially since there was no time between the end of Winter and the beginning of Summer. All summer I have felt a bit out of sync; both classes were a struggle from the start. But like a pitcher who grinds out six or seven innings, doesn’t have his best stuff, and hangs in there just long enough to earn a win, I hung on. A win? No, but six credits, yes. 

Let’s see what Fall brings.