I did. I dropped it.
I’ve only ever dropped on other class in my life, which was my microeconomics class my freshman year of college. I dropped it because I was in a car accident in a freak blizzard, totaled my car, got severe whiplash and couldn’t keep up with my classes.
I dropped out of this one because it was eating up too much of my time. I’m still reporting for the Columbia Missourian on higher education, and this time, I’m taking on an investigative project about race at the University of Missouri. But I’ve made very little progress because, well, the photography class was taking up my time.
So no more blog posts on photography. In fact, I’ll delete those. Breathe a sigh of relief, everyone.
What should I write about now? Should I treat this thing like a diary again? Should I write about my 14-hour days reporting on the Mizzou protests and hunger strike, how I couldn’t sleep for a week? Should I write about the pain of dating someone who, for reasons neither he nor I can control, can’t commit to a serious relationship?
Nah, that’s too private.
Should I brag? Should I write about my accomplishments?
No, I’m not an asshole.
Should I write more cultural analyses and critiques? Should I write about literature?
Maybe. I really miss that.