Dear life, stop being stressful. Kthx.
So after the First Hell Week, the sequel is here and has brought friends. Looks like the entire month of October is going to be spent chained to a desk. I'm even considering re-arranging my Fall Break plans to not include awesomeness in Athens with Renu and Co. I may just be here, hammering out my honors seminar capstone project, which is inexplicably due before Thanksgiving rather than at finals as would actually make sense.
I know, I know, the more time I spend complaining about work, the less time I have to work, but complaining is more fun. Plus everyone at Elon is sick and tired of listening to me, and LJ is where I go when that happens. Somehow I seem to have ended up with twice as much work as anyone I know (at Elon, anyway) which is infuriating when my entire house is on a mission to divert me from work. I have to explain to them that no, I am not a fuddy-duddy, that I in fact had enough fun this weekend to last a lifetime, that for some reason my courseload is just awful this semester and yes, I will sleep sometime in the next century.
Plus, I would just really like some time to think and digest everything that is going on, and that is proving to be impossible with all I have to do. So I just slog through and hope maybe during fall break I'll be able to breathe again. Or not, considering the history midterm is right afterwards. And so is the rough draft of the capstone thing.
I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate school. I feel like I'm going to flunk out if I don't get my act together. I honestly don't know what's happening to me. I used to live my life with a set of principles that I actually took somewhat seriously and derived satisfaction from doing so. I still do care, I really do, but it's hard to show that when things are this insane. I feel like everyone is expecting something different out of me and I can't please them all. And with so many voices telling me what to do, I'm having a hard time figuring out what I need for myself. I use the word 'need' and not 'want' very deliberately, because 'wants' have a tendency to lead one astray, whereas 'needs,' though difficult to grasp and articulate, are probably more essential to happiness than 'wants.'
Yes, I overthink everything. And philosophize overmuch. But philosophy is like oxygen, and it's the one thing you can always go back to when you need something structured in which to bounce around your own thoughts. I wish I could be a philosophy and religious studies major, if only for the company (certainly not for the vast prospects of future employment). This cosmic kind of thinking bores most people, and frightens away a lot of the rest. I don't blame them, I know they're intense. But come on, this is life, you are a human being, shouldn't this stuff be fascinating? Or maybe it's just me.
So, back to reality in which I'm an English and French double major with a minor in history and an unfortunate predisposition to all-nighters and a confusing mix of Beautiful People to think about.
One of them was just in a coffee shop, and he is astonishingly, terrifyingly gorgeous, and the most I can do in his presence (when I'm not drunk, that is, I can talk to signposts when I'm drunk) is meep. Meeping, for those of you who don't know, consists of making an indiscriminate noise and running away. So I'm getting my usual double 10 pm all-nighter shot of espresso, and Gorgeous Pi Kap Lars is there, trying to talk to me. We initiated conversation, I went on my merry way to get my coffee, stood there stirring it, and then he came over to continue the conversation.
Don't these people have any idea how intimidating they are????? I'm trying to pretend I'm cool and unaffected by his obvious physical beauty, and for some reason he is still talking to me.
If you are way beyond the normal level of gorgeous, just don't have a conversation with me. It will make my miserable puppy-love crush attraction on you way, way worse. So I decided to meep.
He says he's going to the library, as am I, hence the logical thing to do would be to wait for him to get his coffee and go together. But no, I decide to bolt.
Yes, this is my head: philosophy, too much homework, and Beautiful People.
I hope all of you are surviving/have survived midterms.
Speaking of Beautiful People, a shout-out happy birthday to Kenneth. He's nineteen and he probably did absolutely nothing fun on his birthday. But no worries, I partied in his stead (and my or may not have spent Saturday completely hungover, which is probably the reason why I'm failing my academic career. That and LJ).
Note: finding a cell phone is an unusually difficult thing. And air does not have an actual taste. Even though one could be forgiven for believing that it does when one is wasted.
I do love hypotheticals.