verstehen libre.
Monday, January 09, 2006
existential crisis
Okay, first of all: wow do I have a lot of crap. One would not reasonably imagine, in an apartment the size of a shoebox, that so much crap could even accumulate. I've only been here for 2 and a half years! Where did all of this come from? I have multiple lamps and a real bed and various pieces of artwork that I actually care about and--get this--even plants. Well, okay, just the one plant. But, dude, it's alive. I'm so totally not going to be able to sell my aloe plant on craigslist. And since when do I have both a perfectly serviceable aloe plant AND lotion with aloe in it??? That is just like having a kitchen item that can only do one thing, such as a goddamn melon baller, and everyone knows how I feel about that shit. Who am I and what did I do with Jenny?
And then there's the school stuff. SO MUCH school stuff. There are of course a lot more books than there were in 2003, but the bigger problem is the reams of paper...all of those notes, and essays, and outlines and drafts of essays, and half-baked project ideas, and expensive-yet-interesting-and-potentially-useful-in-future-syllabus-development coursepacks and let's not forget all of those thesis drafts that I can't quite bring myself to completely toss.
But the worst part of this process--at least when you're an internal processor like myself--is the obligatory life-review that comes with sorting through boxes of personal papers. God almighty, do I ever write everything down. And man is it weird as hell to sift through my musings of 2003 and realize just how short and brutish the last two years have actually been. Theme number one: I was a certified dumbass when I arrived on campus, it is now true and official. My papers all make terrible, feeble, horribly failed attempts at 1) humor and 2) overwhelming denouncements/absurdly parsimonious--yet surprising and nontraditional!--conclusions, and I meaninglessly name-drop in my half-assed "literature reviews" like I'm a little too tipsy and rather insecure at a cocktail party. And I'm sure I'll look back at my personal statements for grad school--and, indeed, my thesis--in another quarter or two and feel just as hopeless and stupid. It's really quite tragic. Theme number two: I really was ambling toward perdition when the UW stepped in to save my ass. ¶ 1:01 PM
And then there's the school stuff. SO MUCH school stuff. There are of course a lot more books than there were in 2003, but the bigger problem is the reams of paper...all of those notes, and essays, and outlines and drafts of essays, and half-baked project ideas, and expensive-yet-interesting-and-potentially-useful-in-future-syllabus-development coursepacks and let's not forget all of those thesis drafts that I can't quite bring myself to completely toss.
But the worst part of this process--at least when you're an internal processor like myself--is the obligatory life-review that comes with sorting through boxes of personal papers. God almighty, do I ever write everything down. And man is it weird as hell to sift through my musings of 2003 and realize just how short and brutish the last two years have actually been. Theme number one: I was a certified dumbass when I arrived on campus, it is now true and official. My papers all make terrible, feeble, horribly failed attempts at 1) humor and 2) overwhelming denouncements/absurdly parsimonious--yet surprising and nontraditional!--conclusions, and I meaninglessly name-drop in my half-assed "literature reviews" like I'm a little too tipsy and rather insecure at a cocktail party. And I'm sure I'll look back at my personal statements for grad school--and, indeed, my thesis--in another quarter or two and feel just as hopeless and stupid. It's really quite tragic. Theme number two: I really was ambling toward perdition when the UW stepped in to save my ass. ¶ 1:01 PM
