Tsarah, deep Tsarah

Remember how I used to complain that Greek would be the death of me?

Yeah, well Hebrew is a completely different story.



I don't know what possessed me to take it,
considering that languages and I don't seem to get along really well.
I guess the masochist in me
thought it would be really really cool to learn Hebrew.
I mean, I had just passed (miraculously) a full year of Greek, and if I could survive that,
well then certainly I could thrive in Hebrew.



Not so, my friends.
See that little word up there?
distress//trouble
in Hebrew it reads tsarah.
And man, am I in it.
My last test grade was shocking.
grrrr. not only was I frustrated, but I was also embarrassed.
I really respect my Hebrew teacher, so after a grade like that, I was pretty dissappointed.
So I sent him an email, expressing my frustrations,
and his reply was really encouraging.
But I'm learning what it means to ask for help,
even if it exposes things I would rather hide.



shalom chaverim, l'hitra'ot.