Tag Archives: college

Sick Day

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Last week, I wished I could get sick.

I’m one of those people who really likes being alone. By “alone,” I don’t mean going to busy places by myself, shopping by myself, driving by myself (although all of those activities can be very therapeutic). No, I like to be by myself, in a quiet room, doing quiet activities. All alone.

I don’t get to do that. Being alone might happen for a few hours on Saturday. Might. I spend most of my waking hours around other people. While I’m sure that’s probably very good for me, I don’t get much time to recharge.

But, I reasoned, if I get sick, then I’ll have an excuse to stay home, not leave my apartment, not talk to people, and do whatever creative stuff I want. Aside from being sick, I thought, I’d have a mini vacation.

One week later, I am sick. Not deathly ill. I was sicker back in January when a cold erupted into a mongrel flu-sinus-infection hybrid that floored me for weeks and also somehow gave me insomnia. No, this time I have a fever and a headache and decreased appetite. Piece of cake.

I mean, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. But other than that, I’m great.

I got a whole day to knit and write and read. I’ve taken two bubble baths in the last 24 hours. I’ve dived into a stack of Poets & Writers I’ve been meaning to catch up on for months. I wrote in my journal. I cranked out six inches of a double-knit scarf.

Funny how something as seemingly inconvenient as a sick day can turn out to be such a blessing in disguise.

Of course, my first day of classes is tomorrow, and I don’t want to miss it. So there’s that.

If only I could have gotten sick a week ago.

Not that I’m complaining of course.

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Gradual

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And so another year comes to an end, with little fanfare. At least, not for those who haven’t or have already marched across the stage to receive their fancy bit of paper.

I went to the ceremony, and it was lovely. Lovely, as well as shorter than anticipated, which was a definite bonus.

And then there were parties. And then I went back to my little home, quite tuckered out.

I keep thinking that there’s homework to do, but there isn’t. I keep thinking I should be studying for something, but I don’t have to. I keep thinking I need to go to work tomorrow, but I don’t. In fact, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

My one responsibility right now, at this moment, is to go sleep for nine hours.

Which is exactly what I’m going to do.

Friday

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Well, that was a successful week! Exams are over, my studying is done for the semester, and I can finally rest up. Boy, am I looking forward to the weekend.

So the test I was dreading turned out to be quite worth dreading, but the grade I got didn’t lower my overall grade, which was nothing to be ashamed of.

I got to celebrate the end of the week and the end of the semester by drinking Starbucks tea, partying with my fellow cast members from Little Women, and going with my fiance to look at our new apartment. All in all, a successful and happy Friday. I am so ready to sleep until I wake up tomorrow.

Wait…

Wait, it’s only Wednesday.

I still have two more days to deal with this week.

Oh.

Well, at least exams are over.

Next Year

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This is the last week I will spend studying all hours into the night for a final exam.

Next semester I will be taking one class. One. That means one exam. One teeny, tiny exam. I will study for it for one night, maybe two, and then take the test and be done.

I will go to bed before midnight and feel rested enough to take the test by the time I get to take it. I won’t be barely functioning on four hours of sleep and three cups of coffee.

I will be caught up on the homework so I’m not trying to cram in weeks of reading in one night.

All of these things shall come to pass.

But it is not this day.

Last Days

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These are the last days of classes. Tomorrow is the last day any of us will have to go to class.

Next week, there will be exams. Monday through Thursday.

Friday is Commencement, the end of the semester.

Friday is also the last day of my job at the library. I have accepted a full-time staff position with Undisclosed University’s IT department, and I start on May 11th.

These are also the last days of my presence in this cosy apartment that I’ve shared with my delightful roommate for the last nine months. I’ll be moving to a new apartment during the month of May, an apartment I will be sharing with my husband after we get married.

These are my last days as a single lady. In 58 days, I will hand in my Miss for a Mrs. I will cease to be Risabella Rambler and will begin to be Mrs. Rizzy Something Else. (Eh. I’ll always be a Rambler. The papers will just say otherwise.)

So many things are ending.

Yet so many things are beginning.

And I wouldn’t stop them for anything.

Things I Would Rather Be Doing

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  1. Pinning recipes for awesome healthy stuff.
  2. Sleeping.
  3. Reading a book I actually want to read.
  4. Sleeping.
  5. My regular assignments so I can actually be caught up and on time with those…for once.
  6. Sleeping.
  7. Doing yoga.
  8. Sleeping.
  9. Writing an in-depth and thoughtful blog post.
  10. Sleeping.

Things I have to do:

  1. Finish putting together this presentation on Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Things I don’t want to do:

  1. Finish putting together this presentation on Ralph Waldo Emerson.

You see my dilemma.

Late Nights

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The last two weeks of school, you stop caring too much about the consequences of staying up too late.

Not because there’s a lot to do, necessarily. Not because you’re caffeinated or because there is (or is not) a test tomorrow.

It’s just that you get to a point where you’ve got stuff to do, it doesn’t get done during the day because other things happen, so you do it at night. Late into the night.

You realize you will only get more and more tired, and you’ll pay for it eventually (probably tomorrow during class when you can’t stay awake), but you also know that in two weeks, you can sleep as long as you like without consequences. You can go home. You can change into your pajamas and head to bed. You can not leave that bed until you are good and ready.

So any sleep you lose right now will be regained. Eventually.

Which is why I’ll be up quite late tonight.

In the Wee Small Hours

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It used to be that 1 AM was when the inspiration happened. When I was a teenager, I looked forward to weekends because weekend nights meant I could stay up late, sit at my desk, and write or draw while listening to music or an audiobook. All of my best drawings and poetry came pouring out of me during the witching hours, when all the world was silent.

Either those late nights are catching up to me now, or I am simply too old to be inspired that late at night/early in the morning. I have 712 words left to write on my paper for a course in modern literary theory. I’ve written 2,288 words that I feel adequately represent my feelings on my chosen subject matter, but the minimum word requirement is 3,000.

It’s 11:30, and I just want to go to bed. I do not feel inspired. I feel tired. Just…tired.

But write I must.

(I feel like I need to get that tattooed somewhere.)

Buckle Up

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It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

This week, that is. Actually, the next three weeks. Actually, all of the weeks leading up to our wedding. I do not get a real break until June 27th.

I am bracing myself, gripping the keyboard of my laptop with my fingertips, pausing my typing to stare hopelessly at the theory paper that has less than a third of the words it needs to have by Thursday.

And once again I wonder why I do this to myself every year. Why the sleepless nights, why the caffeination, why the tears and the agony?

This is not how I want to spend my last week of being 22.

But that’s how I’ll spend it.

And I’ll get to the end of the week and think, “Wow, that went better than I thought.”

But the beginning and the middle will be awful.

Reality Check

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I have no earthly idea what I’m doing.

Nor does anyone else.

I firmly believe that even purposeful people have no idea what they’re doing. The most productive and driven people I know (who are actually getting stuff done in their lives) are just walking through open doors to see where they lead. Often they don’t have so much as a penny in their pocket (or maybe only a dollar or two), but they’re off and going and doing anyway.

And ultimately, no matter how smart or how wise someone is, there will still be something that he doesn’t know.

The world is just too big. The universe is just too wide. Eternity is just too long.

The intelligence and collective knowledge of the smartest person in the whole world is but a drop in the ocean of knowledge that there is to be known.

Compared to God, the greatest man is just a child.

I am 22. I have a college degree. And I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no idea about anything.

But that’s okay.

And I’ll learn as I go.

Spare Moments

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It’s hard to fill spare moments wisely when you’re really, really tired and really, really lacking in the motivation department.

The projects I’m doing right now require long stretches of uninterrupted time. Trouble is, every moment of my day involves a series of transitions. Apartment to campus, campus to gym, gym to apartment, to name a few. (The gym time slot is necessary for my and everyone else’s sanity.)

Every transition means a few more wasted moment spent in resettling. Anymore, those moments are spent doing worthwhile things, but nothing pertaining to the projects I need to be working on. Research on cancer fighting food, for instance. Emptying the dishwasher. Trimming my fingernails.

I’ve trimmed away a lot of pointless distractions, only to meet with new ones that are less pointless, but just as distracting.

And all of them are keeping me from going to bed at midnight.

The Best Laid Plans

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The goal is always to get to bed early. But life happens.

There might very well be a test tomorrow, but you have to work all evening long. And there will be forces pushing and pulling you all day long, at work, in class, in your down time–all the time. Distractions and surprise encounters and occasional headaches.

You might be distracted by an idea. You hear of a ghost story, then look to see if your library has a ghost encyclopedia or a compendium of common ghostly legends. Your library doesn’t, but another in the state does, so you order it. You do online research when you should be trying to figure out what to write for your paper that’s due in a few weeks. You get the book at last, then hunt through its pages. You contact a folklore blogger who might have more information. You obsess over something pointless and forget what on earth your blog post is supposed to be about.

Ah, yes. Distractions. Delays.

You get back from work and intend to write a blog post about delays when you and your roommate start a conversation about how people in your environment take dating way too seriously–serious to the point of agonizing over whether or not to say yes to Date One because HE MIGHT THINK YOU’RE THE ONE and that’s too much pressure for Date One, or even Two or Three. And you invent a fictional startup dating casual dating/matchmaking service that would help teach people how to be good dates. And come up with marketing schemes. And branding.

And now it’s almost midnight and you still haven’t gone to bed. And there’s a test to study for tomorrow morning.

Not everything will go as planned.

Postponing

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Well, sorry guys. I wanted to write a post about a family ghost story tonight. Instead, I have to write a response paper about my recent readings in feminist literary theory. I was a little surprised by that one, even though I wrote the assignment down weeks ago.

I’ve gone from being ahead to being behind. I’m blaming my accidental nap from earlier this evening.

But I don’t want to write the response paper. I want to sleep. But until the paper is at least mostly done, I will get no sleep.

Education can be cruel sometimes.

So can procrastination.

But that’s my own fault.