I think the kids say “wtf?” these days.

It’s been longer–much longer–than I would have liked it to be.  I’d credit that to the immense amount of schoolwork that’s been assigned (and forgotten) about over the last few weeks.  Somewhere between getting my life back on track and staying on top of my apartment, I’ve just seemed to forget about this.  With this tiny gap over the next few days, I hope to really catch up and get back into writing… something that has just been neglected in the whirlwind that has swept me up.

The good news is that things really are back on track; the tragedies of two weeks ago  have found solutions, (most) of the friend problems are mediated, and despite being behind in two classes, I’ve realized that I’m not that far off track.  Something about tiny successes that really make you feel as though you haven’t fucked up that much and that there’s time to finish everything else up.

In the past few days I’ve found myself really contemplating this college thing.  While I’m within three–or even two–semesters of graduation, the lines between learning and application have finally begun to blur.  With the exception of Science and Civ, most of my learning is done through application; projects being completed, filming, processing and enlarging–I’m no longer a sponge in a seat.  The defintions between student and professor have also finally meshed the way I’d like to see them.  I’m learning to really come into my own creatively and I’ve found that projects are much easier to complete… and defend.  I’ve found myself becoming much more confident in my presentation and my thoughts as an answer to a prompt; I don’t always second guess like I once did.  I am thrilled with how things have been going with school lately… it’s a great feeling.

But despite the success and happiness I find between 9 and 4, there’s other things that I still just don’t get.  The idea of finding purpose–or giving my life purpose–still sometimes escapes me.  I feel as though I’m going through the motions and just completing menial tasks; that the things I’m doing are not shaping any amount of meaning and that despite the time taken, it will eventually be forgotten anyway.  It’s rather pesimestic to be thinking this way, but in the same breath, I find it hard not to.  I look to invest time in people, in processes, only to realize that those people forget, those projects fall apart.  Sure, I have a handful of truly great things and great people, but it’s those few that can really put a damper on the bright eyed view that I attempt to hold on to.

And then I think of the lady at CVS who gave me the coupon.  Or the woman who walks the dog on my street and lets me play with him when I walk by.  Or the child at the grocery store who smiles incessantly when I smile back.  Or the professor who really seems to care about me beyond a name in a grade book.  Or the boyfriend who wakes up with me in the middle of the night because I have a question that just has to be answered.  Or the mother who always picks up the telephone, even if it’s a bad time.

And it really doesn’t seem all that bad anymore.

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