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Last night was my History 212 final. I think I may have even managed to squeeze out an A, considering I never really studied for this one. I am bad, I know, but I couldn't get my head into it. This was my last final for the semester. I am finished. Technically, I hold the proud distinction of possessing an Associate of the Arts degree. Ta-dah.
Another graduate asked be before the test if I was going to commencement. No, I'm not going. I'm just transferring to the university. I'm not really done with anything and I don't really feel any sense of accomplishment. Hell, I feel more like I just finished the tutorial level of a video game and now I finally get to actual game play.
Did I mention I am scared to death of this transfer? Now, that I'm going to a "real" school, I am worried. I've always been a big fish in a small pond - of course I do good work at community colleges and technical schools and hippy-dippy schools that don't have grades. This is a real university with thousands and thousands of students. This is a school with real standards and real professors in real academia.
Today is my first free day since the end of the semester. I am reserving it for doing next-to-nothing. Next week I'll need to start picking up extra shifts now that I'm not in school, but today, I can breathe a small sigh of relief. That is my graduation present. A day to breathe, a day of nothing.
There is a problem. I do not want to have days of nothing. I don't want my daily grind to, well, be a grind. I don't want my daily life to be such a chore that I feel I need a day of nothing just to unwind. I lose ambition and momentum on days like this. I spend my time in classes and taxis thinking of story ideas, thinking that as soon as I have a free moment, I'm going to write them down, do some real work. But I come home and I have a free day and I do nothing because I just need to let go for a moment.
My friend Mitch, who I often design flyers for, and Dale, an old Watertown friend are going to stop by in a little bit and take me out to lunch. It seems like the thing to do on a day of nothing. I haven't actually seen either of them face-to-face in years. Ah, the glory of the Facebook. I know this last paragraph was not a conclusion to the previous paragraphs, but it will have to do. Sometimes the end isn't really the end. It was Faulkner who said "the past is never dead; it is not even past."
Another graduate asked be before the test if I was going to commencement. No, I'm not going. I'm just transferring to the university. I'm not really done with anything and I don't really feel any sense of accomplishment. Hell, I feel more like I just finished the tutorial level of a video game and now I finally get to actual game play.
Did I mention I am scared to death of this transfer? Now, that I'm going to a "real" school, I am worried. I've always been a big fish in a small pond - of course I do good work at community colleges and technical schools and hippy-dippy schools that don't have grades. This is a real university with thousands and thousands of students. This is a school with real standards and real professors in real academia.
Today is my first free day since the end of the semester. I am reserving it for doing next-to-nothing. Next week I'll need to start picking up extra shifts now that I'm not in school, but today, I can breathe a small sigh of relief. That is my graduation present. A day to breathe, a day of nothing.
There is a problem. I do not want to have days of nothing. I don't want my daily grind to, well, be a grind. I don't want my daily life to be such a chore that I feel I need a day of nothing just to unwind. I lose ambition and momentum on days like this. I spend my time in classes and taxis thinking of story ideas, thinking that as soon as I have a free moment, I'm going to write them down, do some real work. But I come home and I have a free day and I do nothing because I just need to let go for a moment.
My friend Mitch, who I often design flyers for, and Dale, an old Watertown friend are going to stop by in a little bit and take me out to lunch. It seems like the thing to do on a day of nothing. I haven't actually seen either of them face-to-face in years. Ah, the glory of the Facebook. I know this last paragraph was not a conclusion to the previous paragraphs, but it will have to do. Sometimes the end isn't really the end. It was Faulkner who said "the past is never dead; it is not even past."
