I don't have a lot of substantive updates on my life. I've graduated; I've drank a hell of a lot; I've unsuccessfully looked for a job worth having; I've contemplated grad school. It's actually been busier than it sounds. And more frustrating, too.
I've been worried for years about this terribly awkward stage I'm going through right now. When you're young, becoming who you are is very much this subconscious habit of being. At least, for me it was. But maybe that's because I was slower to mature than a lot of people when it came to cultivating an image and stuff. Or maybe it's because the image I chose to cultivate took less effort than most other choices.
When I was fourteen, I was a geek because I read a lot of books and was smart and knew what "the internet" was. But I hadn't consciously developed the plan at twelve to be a geek. It wasn't like I sat down and thought: "Okay, strategy for becoming a geek. Must read Tolkien. Must read Asimov. Must watch Star Trek." No, sadly, those were choices I made without ever considering their consequences.
But my situation now is much different. I'm not going to become something by just happening to do it. It's not like you sit around Social Working until somebody notices and decides to pay you. You don't become a lawyer by lawyering on the street, or a doctor via armchair physicianing. The something I have to be now requires forethought, painful acclimatization and conscious choice. I'm embarassingly backward at all of the above attributes. And that's why my insides are slowly turning into jelly, and I find myself mumbling on a daily basis "Holy Shit, I really just don't care anymore."
Don't care about what? Name it! I don't care much about politics, I'm not really up for a debate. That's approximately as characteristic of me, in an election year much less, as it is for the Pope to send out a regular tithe to Planned Parenthood each month. I don't care when embarassing shit happens to me. Why bother blushing? Embarassing shit happens to everybody. I don't care when nothing happens all day, and nobody calls, and I end up staring at the ceiling, quite literally, for hours on end. What precious time is it really wasting for God's sake? It's not like I have a paper due or something. I don't even care about tv. I like something like two shows, and the majority of the time, I miss them. Not because I'm busy; because I'm too lazy to get up and find the remote control.
Anyway, all that sounds kind of negative. But I could be a lot worse off. All those long college nights spent up pacing the floor over what the hell are you going to be when you grow up have faded into a blissful and undisturbed puddle of drool gathered upon my pillow whilst I sleep the thirteeenth or fourteenth hour of my day away. It could totally be worse.
I may blog more. Or I may not. I'm not sure. I guess it depends on my next mood swing.
posted by Sarie @
2:21 AM
>Comments: 0
