I'm being neither sarcastic nor dramatic. And that's the sad part.
I just feel the itch to do some busy work and get things moving. The last time I did this was in my senior year in high school, when I was the head of the debating club. My members and I did a lot of good things that year (i.e. best hosting job ever), and, while I had to stay up late working on proposals and doing other admin stuff that came with the position, I was happy. Satisfied and happy. When I got to college, I shunned admin stuff completely, but I was very active in the competitive debating scene. And this was really the perfect route for me. I got to do what I wanted, and I didn't have to do what I didn't want to do. Besides, if you're sent to South Africa to represent the school, it's hard to find something to complain about.
But now, there is reason to complain. Ugh. There's no outlet apart from school for me, no assurance that aside from school or even in spite of it, I am doing something worthwhile. This is a really sad realization, given that I will be graduating next year and leaving South Behind forever. I remember my college professor who always reminded us to "live, love, and leave a legacy." (Or wait, was it some Covey guy who said that?)
The point is that I have been living, I have been loving, but I have no legacy to leave here. That is just so sad. There's nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but I have never been one of those people who were satisfied with just passing in the night. I want to do something, damn it.
To be fair, I did handle a project for this org that I'm a part of. That turned out okay, I suppose, but I didn't find fulfillment working on it, for reasons I shall be keeping to myself, and I'm not too excited to do something like that again.
Well, I have several prospects for next year, and a huge one for this summer. There are a lot of opportunities to be productive and to do something. Watch me go for gold, friends - the Productive C is back in the game.
* * *
I am suffering from tinnitus. I'm not sure if I have the objective one or the basic one, but I am pretty sure that this is the condition that assailed me last night. Was lying in bed, trying to sleep, when I heard a chorus of bells. My gut feel told me that I was either being crazy or possessed, and I was already summoning St. Michael the Archangel to my side, when I remembered Archie Andrews and the gang, my good ol' friends from Riverdale High.
I remembered that cartoon strip where Reggie Mantle and Veronica Lodge put bells on Betty Cooper's hair, and Betty thought she was going crazy and she was crying and being otherwise, well, crazy. And then Ms. Grundy demanded to know what was going on, and saw the bells and figured everything out.
When I remembered that, I breathed a sigh of relief and closed my eyes. I wasn't going crazy - Reggie and Veronica had just put bells on my hair.
* * *
My sleeping schedule is out of whack. Dang those two papers. Yesterday, I went to bed at around 7:30 P.M., got up at around 12 M.N., and then went to bed again at around 5:00 P.M.. For those five hours that I was awake, I fixed this blog up and then chatted with my sister who's in California. And then the bells happened. I slept at 5 A.M., and woke up again at around 3 P.M.. And here, I am making a web appearance. Hey, wait a minute - so I am being productive after all.
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