I think I’m going crazy.
As far as I can tell, there are two kinds of crazy: the fun, zany kind, like a mad scientist in a kid’s show, and the oh-my-God-I-think-I’m-legitimately-losing-it kind of crazy. This is that second one. A tiny part of my brain, way in the back, is constantly yelling, “What are you doooooooiiiiinnnnnng?!” in slow motion. The other 95% of my brain is shouting back, “I HAVE NO IDEA BUT IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD PLAN AT THE TIME DO YOU LIKE PEANUTS I SURE DO HEY LOOK A NARWHAL!” Only it’s a really mean narwhal and everyone around you has a peanut allergy, so it’s not at all like being at the circus. The same part of my brain thought this paragraph would make sense. Let’s move on.
As verbose as some of my blog posts can be, I’m a pretty quiet person in real life.
I come from a family of bookish nerds, so I’m introverted by nature and nurture, which probably has something to do with it. Another piece of it is self-preservation, I guess. Years of observation have taught me that sometimes stupid things come out of people’s mouths. I still say the darndest things, so it’s not like silence makes me immune, but it definitely cuts down on the sheer volume of dumb things I could be saying.
I live in Colorado and I’m annoyed every single day by its beauty.
Colorado is so obnoxiously beautiful that it’s really easy to take for granted. There were deer and elk in our yard almost every day when I was growing up. I put a picture of one on Facebook as an afterthought last time I was home. When I came back an hour later, it had become the most popular picture I’ve ever posted, and that includes a hilarious photo of a bagel stuck to a tree.
Living here comes with certain obligations. Continue reading
I have my less-than-impressive surface area and X chromosomes to thank for my low alcohol tolerance. It’s not like I can put “holding my liquor” on a resume or impress my parents with it– but it would be nice to be less of a goober about it.
So I’m graduating college in three days.
Actually, can you excuse me for a second? My brain keeps doing this stupid thing. If you’re up for a little peek inside my head right now, join me in the following parentheses. If not, skip ahead like nothing happened.
(AAAAAAAA! THE FUTURE! IT’S HERE! I’M IN TROUBLE! AAAAAAAAA! Ok. I think that was all I needed. Let’s do this.)
I have to finish a two-month internship over the summer, so I’m technically not DONE done, but it feels pretty graduation-y since I’ve finished my last undergrad class and I won’t be back next fall. My classmates and I have spent the last eight months worrying about this moment, with varying degrees of intensity. Last semester, we all joked about how we weren’t sure what we’d do after graduation but stepping into oncoming traffic was looking better and better ha ha. This semester, it’s not unusual to catch yourself thinking half-seriously about how quickly you can get to the nearest busy intersection.
At some point, though, it became too much work to worry about the future. I figure as long as I feel self-actualized and I don’t end up starving to death or sleeping on the streets under a copy of one of those “funny” newsletters bad breakfast diners keep on the tables, I’ll be alright. (I apologize if you write for one of those newsletters, but if you have to sleep under a paper, you probably don’t have time to giggle over why glue doesn’t stick to the inside of the bottle or why doctors call their businesses “practices”. I imagine you spend more time worrying about things like how to find food and avoid the pigeon-iest benches.) The point is, I’m not feeling anxious anymore. In fact, I’m kind of looking forward to graduation. I’m even experiencing something like… happiness.