I’m sitting here trying to finish all of my homework for the week.
Its a nasty habit I have.
I don’t have anything to do on Monday evening so I sit for a while and do my homework. I’ve done this since I was a kid, but college gives you syllabi that let you know what’s going on for the rest of the semester. Its heaven.
I’m stuck on one assignment. I fault myself for not listening well in class considering he only explained it once so I should have listened. I always listen. I’m a better student than that.
And then adding to that I worked Friday at the Keith Albee Theater (Who the F is Keith Albee anyway?) and that erased everything that didn’t have anything to do with stage from my mind for a while.
So here it is Monday evening. I have this class at 8:00 on Tuesday morning (that’s tomorrow) and I’m stuck.
I’m supposed to be using a book to discover what my spiritual gifts are and then writing a paper about what the analysis of this book taught me about myself. Oh yes, I do attend a Christian college and I believe their goal is to make me feel bad about myself by pointing out just how not spiritual I am.
Its inordinately frustrating.
I don’t care about my spiritual gifts.
I don’t intend to use them really…I’m not going in to ministry of any kind.
Oh, the book says everyone has a ministry. I guess the book never lies.
I shudder to think what mine is.
I’m counting down the days till the end of the school year, but don’t tell anyone.
I get to do my great summer job again this year.
I do get to go to Minnesota and visit my grandparents.
I get to be in a wedding.
I know, right?
Argh. That’s the feeling right now.
My mother said something profound tonight.
My dad (who recently lost his father, my granddad) asked how long it took her to stop wanting to talk to her mother after she died. To stop seeing something and picking up the phone to call her, or to stop unconsciously thinking she was still around. My mother thought for a moment and said that it took her a few years and remembered a time that she thought of her mother and started crying and wrote a letter to her dad’s new wife apologizing for her outburst. She explained it by saying:
“I feel like there’s a hole inside me and I’m trying to fill it with a teaspoon when I should be using a shovel.”
I think that’s very profound.
Especially from my mother who doesn’t make a show of trying to say witty things like the rest of us do.
One of my favorite songs in the whole world is a song called “Dirty Work” by Steely Dan.
The song is about a man who keeps going over to this woman’s house supposedly in the middle of the day and having sex with her while her husband is away. He regrets it every time but he keeps doing it. He laments over and over in the song that he’s a fool to be doing her dirty work. The chorus says “I’m a fool to do your dirty work. I don’t wanna do your dirty work no more.” but he can’t seem to get away from it. I make that assumption because Steely Dan never wrote another song called “Wow, I’m Sure Glad I Stopped Doing Dirty Work”
I just think the song is genius, not just because I think Steely Dan is one of the greatest bands ever, but the song goes so much deeper, at least for me, than the mere lament of a man who is in an adulterous relationship with another man’s wife.
I can listen to that song over and over and not get sick of it. I always find myself singing along with the chorus as if I am saying I’m a fool to be doing someone else’s dirty work. I’m not doing someone’s dirty work, precisely as the song is talking…but I find myself growing more and more unhappy with the way things are in my life.
It would be best for all parties involved if I left it there for now. More later.
Oh, I just won a collection of stuffed bees. Odd? I think so.
iamspinning: The soundtrack to P.S. I Love You–my sister brought it to me.
iamreading: The Belgariad: Book 3: The Magician’s Gambit (David Eddings)
I started this blog in June because I was bored and looking for some way to get my feelings out of me so they didn’t explode on other people.
I feel like I aged a whole lot this summer.
That’s not a bad thing.
I made enough money to pay my bills and scoot on back to college where I feel like I belong. I also learned several things along the way…like to leave work at work. That’s a big one.
I feel the need to write again, not to keep my feelings from exploding on other people this time; but to keep them from imploding on me.
Hey, A band I worked with is on this soundtrack I’m listening to. How excellent. That makes me feel slightly significant.
This does too…a desk. I feel pathetic, but at the same time I’m happy I have a desk to sit at while I’m doing whatever it is I do, which anymore is mostly homework which intends to further my pre law school education.
My dad and I were discussing the other day the complexity of our lives. That’s a whole philosophical discussion I will leave out of this little entry…except to say that life is indeed complex and it seems to be throwing a million things at us at once. My mom has cancer, and from what I read it’s not good. People are being nice to us, maybe because of this. My friend Greg says that I should just let it go, they’ll go to hell anyway.
I’ve been running a lot lately. My boyfriend is less than enthusiastic about my fitness goals. I think he thinks once I get rid of my “college weight” I’ll probably dump him for a better offer.
He might be right.
That was blunt. I shouldn’t have said that.
We don’t have a lot in common the two of us, sometimes I wonder how it works…or even if it does work. Maybe we’re too stubborn to admit it doesn’t.
Maybe I’m too young to think of these things.
My friend (who is my age) is getting married.
That’s something to think about.
I promise to update more frequently. The only one who gets gratification out if it is me, and that’s fine.