Don’t do your taxes on Sunday. I think there should be a law that makes it illegal to do your income taxes on a Sunday, just like you can’t be inaugurated as the president on a Sunday. Simply put, taxes are a pain in the butt. Now I’ll admit they were a lot easier than I thought they would be. But they still weren’t a lot of fun. Wouldn’t that be cool if doing your taxes was fun? Senators and Representatives would really earn their money if they figured out a way to make income taxes fun. It could be a board game, like monopoly. Then people would be dying to play. They’d do their taxes several times a year just to play.

Some days I’m just not so sure. The day passes by before you even realize it. I think Saturday is especially susceptible. Even if you sleep in just a little bit, the afternoon doesn’t last long enough for you to catch up on anything. And that’s what Saturday becomes, the catch-up day for the week. You catch up on sleep, you catch up on work around the house, you catch up on the bills. And with all that you don’t really catch up on anything. It’s kind of depressing. It’d be nice if we had fewer things to catch up on, fewer things to fall behind on.

I thrive on last minute.

I am completely convinced everyone in the world should walk around with those large, oval-shaped patches on their shirts bearing their names in cursive stitched letters.

You’re know you’ve grown up when you wear goulashes to work. That’s what one of my co-workers said this morning. It’s a good thing I wear shoes.

Welcome back to ReAL Thoughts. Sorry for the hiatus, but I’ve been a little busy. Consequently, there’s going to be a few changes around here. You are no longer reading the nightly ramblings of a single college guy. You are now reading the nightly ramblings of a married graduate guy. This is where I would transfer from the “college” group at your local church, to the “young married” or “early career” groups, which ever you prefer, depending on the offerings of your particular brand of the Christian faith.

Tomorrow I start my first day of a new job. Am I nervous? I should be. But I haven’t thought about it at all, so I’m not. When the alarm goes off tomorrow I’ll wake up and stop being oblivious. Which means I’ve still got eight hours of bliss.

I’m a college graduate. 3 1/2 years of college education and now I can join the real world. Of course it doesn’t feel like it. Due to the circumstances of the past three weeks I didn’t go through the graduation ceremony. I’ll do that in the spring. So it feels rather anticlimactic. But it’ll sink in. I’ve got a six month grace period before I have to pay loans back. Ah, six months of bliss.

I’m also married. That hasn’t sunk in either. Ever since the ceremony it’s felt like one long dream. I keep expecting to wake up and have it all be over. So far the coolest thing about being married is the ring. I’ve never worn a ring before. Except for that high school ring I wore for a few months sophomore year and then never wore again. But that doesn’t count. Since my wife (I’m still getting used to that phrase) put the ring on my finger I’ve forgotten it’s there; which sounds like a bad thing, but actually it’s not. It means I’m not self-conscious about the ring. Which I like. I keep checking with my pinky finger to make sure the ring is still there, and every time I see it I’m surprised. It’s kind of fun. Of course there are other perks to being married, but we’ll save those for another time.

Tonight I’ll be going to bed at a decent time: midnight. It sure beats 5:30 a.m. It’s my last finals week ever and I’m going out in typical college student style. But the thrust of my stress is over. I have a few remaining things and then I’m done. I’ll be a college graduate. My formal education will be over, an event that’s been 16 years in the making. I am so looking forward to this.

And with finals week over I can actually take the time to figure out what’s going on in the world. I guess we have a president now. I guess it’s also Christmas in a few short weeks. Hmmm, I seem to have forgotten about that. Ah, the joys of being a college student.

Do we have a president yet? Is this semester over yet? Is it winter yet?

Two degrees Fahrenheit. I guess I have one answer.

Sometimes things just don’t work out. When I know I need to be working as hard as I can is when I don’t want to lift a finger. I have three weeks of college left and I am so eager to be finished. I don’t think I will have ever known a greater sense of relief.

Sunday. The Sabbath day. The day of rest. Does a college student get a day of rest? Sometimes I’m not sure. For the past several Sundays I’ve tried to rest. I let my homework sit unfinished in the corner and I did something else. It probably helps that I don’t have any classes on Monday–in a way it’s cheating. Last week my friends and I started a tradition of cooking a big lunch together, and afterwards digesting. Some weeks–most weeks I take a nap. Some weeks I read book–not a school book. Lately it’s been U2 At the End of the World by Bill Flanagan. Some weeks I take pictures and manipulate them on my computer. Enjoying the outdoors is always a good use of Sunday. A few weeks ago Abby and I meandered along Pike Island, a small island in the backwaters of the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers. No matter what I do, it’s a day to relax and forget the headaches and responsibilities. It actually makes Sunday very enjoyable–which it should be. Nothing ruins Sunday faster than an afternoon of frantic homework, followed by an evening of even more frantic homework, and topped off with a late bedtime–making Monday that much more manic.

Some Sundays I feel a little too lazy. The next day I feel unmotivated to get back to work, the laziness still trying to slow me down. My roommate says that’s a sign of how badly I need my Sundays.