I've worked 18 hours in the previous two days, which is more than I usually work in a week anymore. Obviously, everybody is on Spring Break, so the few of us remaining have to pick up the slack. The grand irony is that at the moment, I can't think of a single thing that I would like to do less than go to work at Best Buy. I love all of my co-workers, and I actually get along with my bosses, but mentally I checked out in January when I should have graduated and gotten a big boy job. There is something now that seems demeaning to me about working ridiculously hard for people who aren't very good at what they do and getting paid about half of what your average college graduate should make. I need to suck it up because I'm not going to waste time and effort looking for another job which I will leave in three months.
Aside from working, Spring Break has been enjoyable so far. I've gone to the casino to play poker twice and have done well, and I've generally relaxed. I know I need to get some work done, but I figure I do deserve a day off. Even though I have an easy life at the moment as far as required activities, at times I still mentally feel like I'm being run through the ringer.
Chelsea's blog made me sad because I have grown past the point that she describes. The things that made my Kearney my home aren't there anymore; my friends, familiar places and hangouts, even a lot of my family is gone now. At this point, it doesn't feel like I have a permanent home. I have some roots here in Lincoln, but again, I have no family here, I have on permanent personal landmarks here. I guess that means it's probably time for a move or drastic change, like buying a house. I suppose step one in this is process is graduating. I suppose I should work on my story after work tonight.
6 comments:
In the last four years I've been jumping between three different houses of my father's, three of my mother's, two of my own, two dorms in different towns, and my friends houses and apartments. However, I felt the most empty when my Saturn was obliterated by a drunk driver one night. That's when I felt like I lost my real home.
I've lived in Lincoln my entire life, with the exception of my year at Peru State. And sometimes I still feel like this isn't where I grew up or where I belong.
Wow. Work does not sound fun. I am not working now. I work at Wesleyan. Wesleyan is on break. So I don't work. It is good fun.
Buying a house would be fun also. I want to buy a house, but I don't have any money. I also want to move to Hawaii, but I don't have any money. Maybe I will rob a bank.
It's good to play poker for money. I have never done it, but I have heard great things about it. I should try sometime. I would lose, most likely. I would keep on betting higher and higher, I most likely would. I would probably lose everything.
Jessica, I can emphatize with you about all the moving and what not, but I don't know what to say about the Saturn. I really don't like Saturns, except for that new roadster. But that thing costs like $30,000. I don't have any money.
Still, your Saturn was probably pretty cool. You are a cool person, so it follows that your car is cool. It also follows that your bookbag is cool, and that your notebook is cool.
Cool.
What I really want to buy is a Ford GT. That would be fun.
I'm getting that urge to move too, but it's at least six months, if not a year away (thank you repeating Shakespeare to graduate). Maybe getting my own apartment will help, but I don't know. I also feel rooted to Lincoln and I don't know how I feel about that.
The previous post wasn't complete and I couldn't edit it, so I deleted it. It said "Here's to repeating Shakespeare *raises glass*." What I thought of immediately after was "Here's to outmoded ideals that presence = education *raises glass*." The basic premise is that if I don't have to attend your class to acquire the requisite knowledge, punish yourself. In my humble opinion, stringent attendance policies are a thin veil for obtaining a captive audience, most commonly in the absence of any real reason for people to listen to you blather.
Has he noticed you turning in the same paper you turned in last year? I'm kind of tempted to clean up the first (and only paper I ended up writing for that class) to use next semester... assuming he doesn't go all crazy and decide to try lots of new things in his last semester teaching the class ever (?). Here's hoping.
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