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time out on the running boards
Jan. 24th, 2005 01:30 amTomorrow, I begin my last semester of college. I am alternately excited and terrified by this.
I don't know where I'll be at the end of May. Presumably in Boston (I hope I hope I hope), but I could end up anywhere. I could end up staying here, or traveling somewhere far away, or moving to Tahiti. That's what's exciting. That's what's terrifying.
I don't know anything else but this. Even beginning college, scary though it was at the time, was nothing like this. I knew what I was getting into then. When I picture my life after May 21, I can't see anything. It's just blank, a fuzzy white blot blocking the road ahead.
Thoughts of my schedule for the next few months don't help much. I'll be working four jobs and taking five classes, including my senior seminar, two 3000-level writing courses, and a Spanish class. (And somehow on top of that I'm supposed to find a place to live and a job for post-graduation?) I worry because I know how I am, and the stress of all the work that's going to steadily pile up on me may just kill me. I would also like to have some semblance of a social life, if this is to be the last time my friends and I are together.
I've been forcing myself not to think about any of it the last five weeks. I dived head first into fandom-y things, not allowing thoughts of the coming semester to spill over into my obsessive ramblings and thoughts on shows and books and things. Aster's gotten me addicted to The West Wing (and I really want a "Toby is not amused" icon, guys), and I watched the pilot episode of Veronica Mars. I'm anticipating the new Harry Potter and a Scrubs DVD set and my Firefly movie. But I'm not thinking about the things that really matter right now, and April is going to arrive and knock me over and I'll still be on the floor groping for my glasses or something as the time to move on passes right on by.
I'm not ready for this. It's exciting. And terrifying.
Take your eyes off me
There’s nothing here to see
Just trying to keep my head together
And as we make our vow
Let us remember how
There’s nothing good that lasts forever
I don't know where I'll be at the end of May. Presumably in Boston (I hope I hope I hope), but I could end up anywhere. I could end up staying here, or traveling somewhere far away, or moving to Tahiti. That's what's exciting. That's what's terrifying.
I don't know anything else but this. Even beginning college, scary though it was at the time, was nothing like this. I knew what I was getting into then. When I picture my life after May 21, I can't see anything. It's just blank, a fuzzy white blot blocking the road ahead.
Thoughts of my schedule for the next few months don't help much. I'll be working four jobs and taking five classes, including my senior seminar, two 3000-level writing courses, and a Spanish class. (And somehow on top of that I'm supposed to find a place to live and a job for post-graduation?) I worry because I know how I am, and the stress of all the work that's going to steadily pile up on me may just kill me. I would also like to have some semblance of a social life, if this is to be the last time my friends and I are together.
I've been forcing myself not to think about any of it the last five weeks. I dived head first into fandom-y things, not allowing thoughts of the coming semester to spill over into my obsessive ramblings and thoughts on shows and books and things. Aster's gotten me addicted to The West Wing (and I really want a "Toby is not amused" icon, guys), and I watched the pilot episode of Veronica Mars. I'm anticipating the new Harry Potter and a Scrubs DVD set and my Firefly movie. But I'm not thinking about the things that really matter right now, and April is going to arrive and knock me over and I'll still be on the floor groping for my glasses or something as the time to move on passes right on by.
I'm not ready for this. It's exciting. And terrifying.
Take your eyes off me
There’s nothing here to see
Just trying to keep my head together
And as we make our vow
Let us remember how
There’s nothing good that lasts forever
