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Laundry On Sundaes

Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.

Twenty-four days left until my last final exam of the semester. Motivation is at a all time low. I don’t care about reading dense, obscure philosophy any more. I don’t want to do another impossible biology problem set. With very few exceptions, I am far from being excited about anything that I’m doing in school. The more I think about it, the more I realize that what I truly love doing happens outside of the classroom. Trying new recipes. Traveling to new places. Reading books that I actually enjoy. Being with my family. Taking pictures. Doing art. Learning something for the sake of my curiosity instead of my GPA. All of which I can’t wait to do this summer when school is done with. Is this what college is supposed to be like? And for what? Some job that I’m supposed to have because of convention and the expectations of others? I can’t help but keep thinking that maybe being here doing what I’m doing is all a mistake. But some other part of me tells me that it’s the sensible thing to do, that if I keep working hard at it I will have a steady job one day and it will all pay off. Is that worth spending my youth in misery for? Is that all there is to life? It’s sad that our world is constructed in such a way that we can’t just do what we love and not have to worry about anything else. The need to make a living for yourself is the most unfortunate inconvenience in life.

A picture of me in my first few weeks as a freshman. I wonder if she was so lost then as I am now.


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