Out of nowhere...
I get a lot of time to myself these days on my commutes back and forth to work and I have a love/hate relationship with this time. On good days I can reflect on things in a positive way and maybe give unappreciated moments thier proper due; on bad days I get bogged down in the post-modern (Blech, I hate that fucking word) hall of smoke and mirrors and come home wondering why it is I am not out doing something more "meaningful", whateverthehell that means.
Anyway, I realized on one such trip that a few rather momentus things have been going on that, as they occurred, didn't have me adequately flipping out. One of these momets was finishing my last essay and other work for the final summer course of my degree. I sort of snuck up on that paper and out of what seemed like nowhere, I was done. It sort of just materialized in front of me. I am laways suspicious of papers that write like that because I never think I've done enough to test my thesis or whathaveyou, but the novelty of being done has far outstripped my desire to be a student for about 4 months now, so I was willing to chuck that bad boy on the heap like the grenade it will most certainly be for my transcript. For now I enjoy that blissfull time between marks posting where I can still revel in the possibility of an academic future. Of course, this is a digression from the point though. I am done. I am living the life that I will be living for the next year as I type this. Somehow, through habbit or whatever, I was convinced up until recently that Sept. would bring some kind of change, ot trigger, or starting point to my work-a-day lifestyle...but that has already happened. I'm here. This is it. Wow. Its like that metaphor we talk about to describe really bad sex...where the girl wonders when things are going to get started and the guy is already lighting a cigarette. I was waiting for school to end and work to happen, thinking that there'd be some kind of lead-in, some kind of transitional foreplay to signal to me what was about to happen...yet here I am waking up day after day in a job, feeling like someone spiked the punch.
I get a lot of time to myself these days on my commutes back and forth to work and I have a love/hate relationship with this time. On good days I can reflect on things in a positive way and maybe give unappreciated moments thier proper due; on bad days I get bogged down in the post-modern (Blech, I hate that fucking word) hall of smoke and mirrors and come home wondering why it is I am not out doing something more "meaningful", whateverthehell that means.
Anyway, I realized on one such trip that a few rather momentus things have been going on that, as they occurred, didn't have me adequately flipping out. One of these momets was finishing my last essay and other work for the final summer course of my degree. I sort of snuck up on that paper and out of what seemed like nowhere, I was done. It sort of just materialized in front of me. I am laways suspicious of papers that write like that because I never think I've done enough to test my thesis or whathaveyou, but the novelty of being done has far outstripped my desire to be a student for about 4 months now, so I was willing to chuck that bad boy on the heap like the grenade it will most certainly be for my transcript. For now I enjoy that blissfull time between marks posting where I can still revel in the possibility of an academic future. Of course, this is a digression from the point though. I am done. I am living the life that I will be living for the next year as I type this. Somehow, through habbit or whatever, I was convinced up until recently that Sept. would bring some kind of change, ot trigger, or starting point to my work-a-day lifestyle...but that has already happened. I'm here. This is it. Wow. Its like that metaphor we talk about to describe really bad sex...where the girl wonders when things are going to get started and the guy is already lighting a cigarette. I was waiting for school to end and work to happen, thinking that there'd be some kind of lead-in, some kind of transitional foreplay to signal to me what was about to happen...yet here I am waking up day after day in a job, feeling like someone spiked the punch.
posted by Kevin at 11:30 p.m.
2 Comments:
I don't know if this is what Julian meant, so this isn't a disagreement with you, but your comment made me think of this rant I've always got in my head.
I don't believe for a second that the working world is any more 'real' than the student world, or the home-with-the-kids world, or the wandering-around-without-a-clue world. We each live in our own places and none is more real just because more people spend time there. Maybe it's framed that way for reasons having something to do with money, earning and spending it.
Anyway, that's my bit. I'm enjoying reading your thoughts, Kevin. Thanks for sharing.
I think that money does have a lot to do with it. Money is a tangible thing that we can internalize (or externalize) as a measure of success. It legitimates whatever it is we are doing to people who aren't us. As much as I detest this aspect of society, I can't help but feel the pressure that reality puts on me. I suppose what I am saying is the the 'real'-ness of the job world is real in the same way that say Heaven and Hell is real to Christians. The atheist or agnostic in the group may point out that the Christians' shared belief is merely that and nothing else, but one lonely voice is hard to hear (and maintain). So while I agree with your philosophy, anonymous poster, I tend to crack under the pressure of trying to live up to it.
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