Diary lines

Funny how I keep revolving around the same things when I'm writing. It's the last day of summer (again) and I'm planning (again) to start writing more about what I do than what I feel. Like recipes. And movies, books, concerts. Travel. Whatever. Thing is when these things happen I'm too busy to write about it. When I sit in front of the posting screen I'm usually trying to pull out of me stuff I don't wanna annoy my friends on the phone about. The internet is my confessional. But maybe I will. Maybe I'll learn to share opinions without trying to keep it on safe grounds, maybe I'll be the queen of my castle and just not give a damn.
I'm pretty bored right now, although there's plenty of work waiting for me. I've got articles and letters to write and things to plan out. I might be applying for a social worker job in a mental hospital. I may not make it to PhD, as none of the details for the exam have been announced yet. I spent my day doing field work and housework and in between I watched a couple Sailor Moon episodes. I meditated over how now I'm a highly functioning adult. I submitted an application for the youth housing program of the local administration. I a few years, I might get to buy a place of my own at a really low price. And I even have my eyes on a housing project they just came up with. Granted it gets to be done.
A highly functioning adult, all right. I'm dieting (one thing I once promised myself I would never do) and keeping myself away from booze this autumn. However, friends keep calling to plan out a bar hopping session for this weekend. The safe bet would be to go to the mountains with my folks. Cheaper, healthier and tailored for the peace of my mind. I got some Steinbeck novels from the flea market, I'd love myself a lazy afternoon in the hammock with those. What to do?
I miss school. I've been attending education institutions since I was three. Back to school is the synonym of fresh starts for me, it's a do over, it's my brain's equivalent to what spring is to my body. I know it's a bit dull that my rhythms have been dictated by such conventional schedules. I've never seen school like a brainwashing machine because I've been changing schools every few years. This way I met so many kids and so many teachers, so many ways of seeing the world. Having the best of those share their personal wonders with me was worth sitting in a bench and keeping quiet. Being a non-conformist didn't have that much weight for me, since I've been an outsider all along. I didn't do things just to piss people off or to make them notice me. I did things because I wanted to. So I was a nice girl when I wanted to and I was a blabbermouth drunk just as well. But I've always been a good student. And that was maybe one of the things I partially did to stand out and not just because I liked it. I value education and knowledge and I'd rather like these to be the criteria people judge me on than appearance or the stupid things I do at times.

I never learn

Feeling good was good enough for me once. But lately I find myself in a damn weird place. The only thing that gets my blood running is worrying. Not excitement. And I want to be excited. I want to be excited about my love and I want to be excited about my work. But all I do is get angry and worry. I don't even miss anyone anymore. I just worry the fragile equilibrium I'm relying on for now won't last. I worry I made bad choices. I worry I settled for less. I worry I betrayed myself. No excitement whatsoever.
Is this how it's supposed to be? Yesterday a guy dropped by our office to tell me more about his expedition in the Himalayas and as I listened to him I kept wondering if I was ever that passionate about anything. And then. And then I met this girl I knew and she asked me about my plans and I started talking about wanting to apply to PhD and the kind of research I want to be involved in. And as I walked away I had the grin on my face. That was it. That was my thing. It was what made me sound just like that guy. It wasn't love and it wasn't home design. It was my academic interest that spurred my excitement. It was the only thing that got my blood rushing in a long time. It's what I've always wanted. And I'm not going to dumb myself down for anyone. I'm going on on that path. If they don't want me, I'll go elsewhere. For me study and research were not just steps in my career. They were it, what I wanted to do, what made me tick.
And still, what do I worry about all day? Is that shirt going to match those jeans? Why hasn't he called yet? Am I going to be done with that article by the end of the day? When all this is supposed to be just background noise. I gave up on myself. But I just pray to goddess this fall I'll get the nerve to pick myself up and go where I belong. In an environment where I can grow. Learn. And be me.