Patience and Ego
Twiddling my thumbs.
So I've been so stressed out and busy for the entire week, trying to get all my final projects and such completed, practically wagging my little tail off for the start of the new RP (which launched at the best time for me academically, I'll admit), and pretty much having my mind burn on all cylinders for the last week... and now I'm crashing mentally.
I've been done with all academic responsibility whatsoever for spring semester 2006 since 12:35pm yesterday. You'd think that would give me cause to celebrate, encourage me to run amok doing whatever the hell I please within the limitations of the law and all that nonsense. But I'm still recuperating. I'm kind of numb at the moment, and I don't like it. Sure, there's a feeling of relief and accomplishment at having a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Another academic victory for Tara. But then there's the sight of the arts terrace in the quad completely covered with chairs everywhere for commencement tomorrow. That damned summer class is still lingering over my head, so me walking tomorrow is just for show. But with the cap and gown and all, it sure as hell feels real.
Not sure why, but this thought just struck me. Is this what retirement will be like? All this free time to do all things I've always talked about doing when I could make room for it... but when the time actually comes, being bored out of my skull and frustrated?
I'm sure it's just part of my mental lapse... like the recoil of a rubber band that's been stretched so far it snaps. Eventually, things will settle back into place. I'll find myself a good groove, and life will be peachy. I think life's just tumultuous from all the change. Graduation. Camp in New Mexico. The Red Mile (including my new babies). Somehow it has to all fit together again. It just has to.
Yesterday was my last ever class period/meeting with Jill. I went to her office after class to give her a SASE to return my final essay manuscript with her comments on it after she's done grading, and I brought along my copy of Darkroom and she wrote me a little note:
Dear Tara--
I feel so fortunate to have had the chance to work with you -- and your wonderful words -- these three semesters at Ball State!
With affection and admiration,
Jill
We talked about my plans for after graduation, which is probably my least favorite subject in the world, but I love talking with Jill about just about anything. She said that the first year after graduation is always a mess, and finding a good job can take years. Us writers don't have it easy, but she told me that with a lot of patience and ego, great things can happen. She then acknowledged that she knew those weren't my strong areas, but she had confidence that they would develop with time. This is why Jill Christman is my hero. I said "see you later" instead of "goodbye." I hate goodbyes. They're so final.
But while we're on the subject of goodbyes, there's someone in my life I feel I've lost almost completely. I'm not sure I like who he's become. At risk of sounding ridiculous, I won't get into it anymore, unless prodded.
So I've been so stressed out and busy for the entire week, trying to get all my final projects and such completed, practically wagging my little tail off for the start of the new RP (which launched at the best time for me academically, I'll admit), and pretty much having my mind burn on all cylinders for the last week... and now I'm crashing mentally.
I've been done with all academic responsibility whatsoever for spring semester 2006 since 12:35pm yesterday. You'd think that would give me cause to celebrate, encourage me to run amok doing whatever the hell I please within the limitations of the law and all that nonsense. But I'm still recuperating. I'm kind of numb at the moment, and I don't like it. Sure, there's a feeling of relief and accomplishment at having a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Another academic victory for Tara. But then there's the sight of the arts terrace in the quad completely covered with chairs everywhere for commencement tomorrow. That damned summer class is still lingering over my head, so me walking tomorrow is just for show. But with the cap and gown and all, it sure as hell feels real.
Not sure why, but this thought just struck me. Is this what retirement will be like? All this free time to do all things I've always talked about doing when I could make room for it... but when the time actually comes, being bored out of my skull and frustrated?
I'm sure it's just part of my mental lapse... like the recoil of a rubber band that's been stretched so far it snaps. Eventually, things will settle back into place. I'll find myself a good groove, and life will be peachy. I think life's just tumultuous from all the change. Graduation. Camp in New Mexico. The Red Mile (including my new babies). Somehow it has to all fit together again. It just has to.
Yesterday was my last ever class period/meeting with Jill. I went to her office after class to give her a SASE to return my final essay manuscript with her comments on it after she's done grading, and I brought along my copy of Darkroom and she wrote me a little note:
Dear Tara--
I feel so fortunate to have had the chance to work with you -- and your wonderful words -- these three semesters at Ball State!
With affection and admiration,
Jill
We talked about my plans for after graduation, which is probably my least favorite subject in the world, but I love talking with Jill about just about anything. She said that the first year after graduation is always a mess, and finding a good job can take years. Us writers don't have it easy, but she told me that with a lot of patience and ego, great things can happen. She then acknowledged that she knew those weren't my strong areas, but she had confidence that they would develop with time. This is why Jill Christman is my hero. I said "see you later" instead of "goodbye." I hate goodbyes. They're so final.
But while we're on the subject of goodbyes, there's someone in my life I feel I've lost almost completely. I'm not sure I like who he's become. At risk of sounding ridiculous, I won't get into it anymore, unless prodded.