I’m tired. The semester is already half over and I’m beginning to realize how much work I’ll have to do in the second half. It’s only multiplied when I consider how little work I’ve done in the first half. Why do I never get tired of procrastination? It’s like I’m playing a game of intellectual chicken with my workload–so far I’m on the teetering on the edge. But at the same time I don’t feel academic guilt. I haven’t been a lazy slouch since school started. In fact, I’ve watched less TV than I ever have before, participated more on campus, and spent more time with people. I’ve taken the time for some things I need to do, and I don’t regret that. I can’t regret that. Now I just have to rise up and tackle the daunting pile of work ahead of me. But isn’t it always a daunting pile? Somehow I think life would be boring if it were a little tiny pile.

Midnight provides the silence the soul desires. A still quiet pervades and there’s a tremendous sense of

Sometimes you have to try a few times before you get it right.

Last night my stomach went for a ride. I woke up to find my stomach reeling in a circle, like my whole body was being twirled at the end of a rope. It was the kind of feeling you get from a rollercoaster, but I wasn’t at an amusement park, I was in bed trying to sleep. After a few minutes sense returned to my head and I rested safely on my pillow. Just a dream. But what kind of dream are you having when your mind gets so bored with sleep it decides to throw your body around? And this isn’t the first time I’ve had these dreams where I can actually feel my body flying. Maybe it’s some crazy metaphysical thing and I actually am flying. Or maybe my mind just likes to freak me out. But there’s something odd about waking up because it feels like you were just dropped from a 747. It’s not exactly a feeling that resonates with a good night’s sleep. Maybe tonight I should strap myself in.

College is an interesting time in your life. Your classes are your occupation, except that it never ends. Presumably when you enter the work force you are employed for an eight hour period. When it’s over, you usually go home. Sometimes you might work a few hours over if you have stuff that has to be done. But at some point you call it quits and go home. There is a vast separation between work and home, at least ideally. Of course lots of people bring thoughts of work home with them, if not actual work from work.

But in college you don’t have that leisure. Home is at college. College is at college. It’s one and the same. You don’t go home and get away from your classes and your work. It’s called homework for a reason. When your classes are over your books are still bearing down on you from their designated shelf. Your pile of work still sits in the corner, waiting to be done. When you climb into bed, what ever isn’t finished sits on your desk for tomorrow morning, to greet you along with the blare of your alarm clock.

Kind of depressing, isn’t it? And I only have one semester left. Ha! But seriously, I paint a picture of working for a living as a walk in the park, and college as hell. In reality I’m sure it’s not that way at all. College just seems like hell right now. I could use a walk in the park.

When the fire alarm goes off in a college dorm, nobody really cares. Between fire drills and people who think they’re funny, it gets old real quick. So it goes off and you stand there scratching your head for a few minutes trying to figure out if that’s feedback from your roommate’s stereo, or if that’s actually the fire alarm. When it doesn’t shut off after several seconds you shrug your shoulders, glance out the window to see if you need a jacket, and nonchalantly head to the door. If it was a real fire we’d all be in big trouble.

Continue reading College Fire Alarm →

There’s something very consuming about finals week. I’m finding very little desire to do any more than I have to. Writing this seems to be a chore my brain doesn’t want to do. Apparently it’s reached it’s saturation point and will function no more. I can’t be held responsible if it suddenly goes on strike in the middle of this reflection. Every little thing accomplished this week brings immense satisfaction. Half a laundry basket of clothes have been sitting in the middle of my floor for a week and today I finally got around to putting them away. It felt so good to get that done, even though it only took a few minutes. Next thing you know I’ll take out the trash and call the rest of the day off for celebration. After school’s out this will get better, I promise.

The freeways were empty tonight. It rained and stopped, rained and stopped, rained and stopped. But I only felt the rain on my toes. The sun rose on my evening, and I’m eagerly awaiting the setting of my current responsibilities. There’s a finals week haze in the air. It clouds the eyes, blurs the senses, and brings extremes of fury and laziness. At this point planning is useless, doing is the only appropriate option. Sleep is the third, often alluring option.

I feel like the knight in the movie The Seventh Seal who drops to his knees on a Swedish beach to pray but can’t find the words. His hands come together and his eyes close, but nothing comes. His hands drift apart, his eyes open. He pauses for a moment, then shakes his head, rises, and walks away. He is confronted with Death in the next scene.

I feel like that knight, not just in my pathetic attempts at prayer, but in everything. Finals are next week, the computer ate my disk, and it feels like the alarm won’t stop blaring. I could really use a break, but when I get one it’s not for long. I slept in this morning, and although I really needed it, you couldn’t tell the difference. This evening I spewed out a paper without rereading it and then took a nap. I’m okay mom, it’s just May.

Just May with the moon so hazy and the long shadow before me. I used to get up and run and now I ask myself from what? I’d run tomorrow, but that’s forty minutes of sleep. I’d take a shower tomorrow, but that’s ten minutes of sleep. I’d shave tomorrow, but that’s five minutes of sleep. The bare minimum to survive, that’s all a college student really needs. There’s nothing like a 5 o’clock shadow at 9 am. But the real question is why am I still writing this?

You know, the more I plan my future, the more it unravels. Last year at about this time I was lining up an internship. I was planning on getting paid well, maybe even working a small job on the side. I had it all set. Then the paid internship became unpaid and my small job on the side became a big job on the side. Then when the summer actually came the big job on the side never materialized and I had to make one up. This year I planned on finding a nice job this summer and living in my college’s summer housing. Today I found out the housing is closed already and I don’t have a place to live this summer. Maybe I should just stop planning things.