The forces of nature, of life, just sort of move me along. Every once in a while I wake up and ask, “What am I doing here?” As Socrates might of said, “All we are, is dust in the wind.” Or was that Bill and Ted? Time tolls up after a while and I distinguish the vigor of youth from the passing of time, and philosophy begins to take shape; though it does not lead me to religion. In fact, the more times passes, the more I am anti-religious. Remember this picture?
It’s the pale, blue dot; Earth in a solar system haze as seen from a passing spacecraft. I couldn’t believe I’d never seen it, but I encountered it while thinking about all this stuff, and it really made me think about my situation.
So, I couldn’t believe, when after the first week of the semester and I felt so alive, that I caught someone’s damn flu. I was pissed. I don’t take ill care of myself; I take pretty good care of myself. I told the doctor. She said it was germs. Someone else was sick also. This year, my first flu shot is in order.
The sickness threw my schedule and sleep off when trying to get better and I was left with an out of sync condition I’d worked so hard to finally restore from my exasperating summer. Did I mention how much I was pissed about that? I am trying to restore my schedule as I speak, but this all reminds me of those types of people who you run into that just make you fume, like the lady who ruined my haircut. She didn’t listen to a single damn word I said, and now, not only do I feel out of sync and trying to readjust, but I look like an idiot as well.
I see the Love Bus every once in while, and I have to ask myself, Why am I the way I am? Can I be better? I hope I haven’t screwed anyone over. Am I a poor friend? Do I love good enough? Am I out of control mentally and emotionally? Am I simply self-conscious? Being single, still w/o job in this terrible job climate makes me feel terrible. Such subjects are very hard not to think of, so thank the good and holy realms of benignity I have a blog to turn to. On the contrary, the questions are very important to me, and I start to feel like Data from Star Trek the Next Generation, trying to figure out how to be human. Sometimes I feel like I’m just bouncing my head into walls, then sometimes I think my answers would come if I just had a decent source of income, a way to live, something I can call my own, a sense of identity. All the work is in the striving, and the striving just keeps going and going and going while all around, the country is just falling apart. I roboticize myself and move forward, it’s all I can do.
What’s interesting about the difference between being an undergraduate alongside students who are twenty years old and teaching students who are twenty years old is that I come to realize how little is known among them (concerning English). Only one person in the entire class knew the difference between a metaphor and simile. The stratification blazes in the education zone sometimes. To say the least, I’m not too sure if it was the difference that they weren’t aware of, or if it was my terrifying writing on the board that distracted them from knowing the answer. Truth be told, they probably at least knew how to spell “simile,” because I sure didn’t; but then, that was the very day the flu was rip-roaring ablaze through my system, and my fever had gone through the roof, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to look good on my résumé.