Hoops and hurdles

I am over, done, finished, through with that test. I did well, and more importantly, well enough to be satisfied with the results and not feel the need to take it again. So, I've successfully squirmed through another hoop. Now what? This was the biggest hurdle for so long that I put almost no thought into what came after. I'm trying to simply bask in the glory of the moment but my mind leaps ahead. [Better indulge it for a moment] Grad school: yes. In what? Library and Information Science: this seems good. But what if I want to do something else? There are so many possibilities and I almost felt as if I could never achieve any of them because I wouldn't pass the GRE. [Asinine] So, here I am. Another crossroads: decisions, decisions! The application process is daunting; the decision-making process, even more so.

I felt calm entering the test. I knew I would do well, I knew it would be relatively easy to achieve what I needed. So then what? Perhaps I harbored the minutest sliver of hope that I wouldn't do well and could use that as an excuse to not. Postpone the choices. But here I am now. Looking forward.

Awesome Summer

Turns out that every time recently that I've tried to sit down and study for the GRE I end up writing instead. It's along the same lines, right? And I enjoy it so much more. So here I am. Blogging instead of studying. The test is tomorrow (tomorrow!) and I don't know what to think. Latent panic, perhaps. I just don't care anymore (lies!) and I can't wait to be totally done with it. Over it. Not to have it hanging over my head, a constant internal battle of: I could study or I could go have fun in the sun. I just want to do well enough that I don't think I should take it again. I've just given up for today--it's too damn hot, I can't think, I want to be near the water or doing something fun or reading or biking or doing anything besides studying for some asinine standardized test that thinks it can rate my intelligence and ability to employ logic and reason. And, yes, I treat the test as a sentient because it claims that it adapts to how well I will answer each question and adjust the following ones accordingly. Bastard.

But whatever. It's all okay because it's turning into Awesome Summer! Awesome Summer is characterized by hot weather, constant activity, good friends, epic adventures, sunglasses, little-to-no responsibility, black berries, mild sunburn, water. I love these sweltering days and sweltering nights where it's light until forever and everyone's outside. Where it's approximating sin to be inside. I love it and I'd forgotten how much I love it.

Fairs, festivals, concerts, joy!

Soon I can enjoy this guilt-free. I will joyfully toss this albatross aside and dive headlong into Awesome Summer.

And/or lack of excitement

I recently had an attack of what I call wanderlust but really may be more symptomatic of a larger, more complex clusterfuck of problems: dissatisfaction with the direction of my life [or lack thereof], fear of the unknown, feelings of stagnation, the intense negative emotions inspired by my current employment situation, general boredom and/or lack of excitement. It's very similar to the set of circumstances that sent me to Central America this past winter. I suppose, second time around, I'm better equipped to deal with this. [Practice makes perfect?] That is to say, I'm not going to rush off on some amazing adventure anywhere in the near future (lack of funds, shall we say), but nor do I necessarily believe that it would be the best course of action. Hmmm.. Running from my situation or working to improve it? (But, traveling is great!) My first inclination was to leave. Quit my job. Move somewhere else. Cut off all ties to my life in Seattle and get the fuckoutofhere. Besides the monetary aspect of the situation, this is not a sustainable way to live my life. The same problems and dissatisfaction will crop up anywhere after a certain point. I can't keep leaving once I hit a certain threshold. As always, a large part is the constant confusion about the future. What do I want to do? What would make me happy? How do I attain that? The fears of a possible discouraging failure in the near future regarding a certain standardized test and the application process.

Rather than booking a one-way ticket to Mexico (Swine Flu!) and scrambling for a travel partner as foolhardy as myself (thanks, Emily), I've been consulting my most trusted personal advisers in an attempt at a working solution. I may be lost but at least I'm not alone. Focus on the things I enjoy and find humor/irony in the things I don't. Thanks to those for their help.

That window is an aberration!

I've had two days of work since my triumphant return from the Swine Flu. Something must have happened. I hate my job (again). It's so boring. It's so pointless, banal. The same stupid shit every day. The same stupid self-entitled, self-important rich snooty Magnolians. Stupid. I've isolated part of the problem: 78% of all the stupid, annoying, awkward interactions happen through the drive-up window. I've also isolated several possible reasons: a) the people who use it are particularly horrible and demanding people by nature; b) the physical aspect (i.e. reaching through two windows, height differences); c) the wind; and d) god never meant for there to be drive-up windows (drive-up window = aberration). There will be an absurdly long line from the window to the street and not a one customer inside the cafe. If these people would simply park, get off their fat asses and walk the 20 feet inside, they would receive their coffee so much quicker. These are the people who are most likely to be on their cell phones as they order (and hold up a hand to say "just a moment" as they pull up). They ask for an entire inventory of pastries (if you wanted to choose between 100 different things, COME IN AND LOOK). They order breakfast sandwiches and pout when they must come in to pick them up. They park 3-4 feet from the window so baristas must fully extend out the window. They mumble into their laps and get angry when they have to repeat something. They order from the passengers side and expect baristas to hear them. They drop their money in the gap. Sometimes they don't even look at the barista.

Good news: the other day I had an epiphany. I won't have to work customer service for the rest of my life. There will be an end. Not soon enough, but it will happen. This thought kept me going, sustained me, overjoyed me, invigorated me, until...
"Hi, good afternoon."
"Vanilla mocha!" (angry, cross-eyed glare)
"Right, ok, it's a grande, right?"
"Vanilla mocha! It's $4.02!" (aggressively waving money from low-sitting car, wayward eye swinging horribly)
"Uhh.."
"Don't you remember me!?" (exasperated wail)
"Yes. I. Remember. You. I. Do. Not. Remember. Your. Drink. Vanilla mocha." (very barely controlled rage; nostrils flaring)
(2 minutes later) With all the will power and self control I possess I handed him his stupid vanilla mocha. He stared at it in disbelief.
"Whip cream?!" (asshole, it's whipped cream)
I very nearly threw the stupid fucking drink at his stupid fucking face.
What is wrong with people? Who even drinks a grande iced vanilla mocha with whipped cream?

So, just a little snippet of why I hate my job and that aberration of a window.

Fever Dreams

I’m running through a field. I look back. The field seems to be the typical green checkerboard pattern of an agricultural valley. Haze. From the direction of the field come several children. I come upon a play ground. They spill into it behind me. Where am I? Shouldn’t matter. They must have seen me run past and followed for the curiosity. It seems like they shouldn’t have followed; almost as if they have sneakily escaped from their kid-enclosure and the close watch of some responsible adult.
I stop short near the overly long metallic slide. There are several pint glasses on the ground. A child picks one up and throws it—awkwardly overhand in an accidental downward motion. It doesn’t travel far and doesn’t shatter as expected, merely splits into several pieces. Someone picks up the largest piece—for what purpose? Is it me, to clean it up before anyone gets cut? Is it her, out of curiosity?
There are several people I recognize from high school. They come closer. Somehow, it seems as if they are responsible for the children. Or should be. I look at the child and say: “This is why no one should have kids until they are at least thirty.” I grin, feeling clever. I look up, look at my audience. Who are these people? Relics from my past, perhaps. I look at the little blond child in front of me. There’s a small trickle of blood on someone’s finger. Is it mine? Is it hers? There’s not so much blood, mustn’t hurt too much. She seems unconcerned. I feel unconcerned. Whose blood? Whose finger? I awake in sweat. There is no blood.

No, it's not Swine Flu.* (But wouldn't that be funny?)

This is the first time I've been vertical for more than an hour in the past three days. Being sick sucks, but it's also SO BORING. And it makes me feel boring. How did I spend my day? Sleeping, writhing with discomfort, coughing, whining, being overly affected by death-due-to-illness in books and movies, angry with the beautiful day outside, too hot too cold too over being infirm. Fever dreams. (Fever dreams are actually pretty neat.) I'm feeling significantly better at the moment so we'll see what tomorrow brings. Plus, I HATE ABHOR DETEST CANNOT ABIDE summer sicknesses! Why!? Can't we all just get over it in the fall/winter/spring and just let summer be summer? And to top it all off: the lurking threat of Swine Flu. The first friendly fatherly check-up:
"High fever?"
"Uhhh.. slight?"
"Cough?"
*cough cough hack* "Yes."
"Chills?"
"Dad, are these symptoms of Swine Flu? I don't have Swine Flu."

So, I don't have Swine Flu. Disappointing, in a way. I mean, I feel this awful, why can't it be something legendary? Truly epic? The kind of story with which you bore your obliging grandkids.

In addition to feeling like shit, being ill puts a damper on my life. I missed the bottling process of the homebrew my roommie started (bottle beer, drink beer, right?). I missed my first creative writing class (been looking forward to for 1+ month). I had to reschedule an interview/orientation for a volunteer position that I have been trying to set up for ages. Missed a dinner with friends. Missed 2 days of work. Damn it! I have no time for this! Not to mention the last week before the GRE: valuable studying time wasted away as I slept fitfully in sweaty sheets. If nothing else, I hope this doesn't adversely affect that. Or whatever. This whole common cold/common flu thing also just tops off a great week of bodily mishaps; the bruises and scrape from a mostly minor bike crash have faded somewhat but are still clearly evidenced on my body. Just get better, really. Already.

And I don't even have Swine Flu!!!


*Swine Flu is a very real and significant threat. Please treat it with the respect and caution exercised by the media. Please capitalize.