If you're anything like me (type A, oldest child, possibly a tad OCD) you love the concept of planning things. Events, schedules, trips, itineraries (I even love that word!), and more. I am a full-fledged weirdo when it comes to planning. While I sometimes say I enjoy the spontaneity of life, I often find myself stressing out when things aren't planned properly or when things don't go according to the plan I had already set out in my mind.
I have been doing a lot of planning lately. Plans to get my semester finished with my sanity (somewhat) in tact... plans to get the perfect Christmas gift for everyone on my list... plans to get said Christmas gifts while maintaining a graduate student budget (womp... sorry DIY receivers)... plans to make the most out of my short time in Seward and Wisconsin with my family... and there are even more to come in the new year. Plans for weddings (woo!) and bachelorette parties and another semester of crazy and whatever the heck I'm going to do with my summer...
The list goes on and on, as I'm sure yours does too. We can never plan enough, because let's face it, it's difficult to stop time from continuing on at the pace it deems necessary. Which is really unfortunate, because it often feels that if only I could stop time, I'd actually be able to relax and enjoy the moment. But that's sort of a shame, isn't it? We have this whole entire world and our whole entires lives to soak up and relish, goshdarnit! Why must we hinder ourselves with plans for the future when the future has yet to even arrive?? (The answer here is obvious: because otherwise we would go nuts never having anything ready.)
But seriously, planning is great to some extent, but I often find that the best moments are those that I somehow manage to relinquish my iron grip on control and let things flow. Yesterday, my dad announced it was time for the yearly trek down the hill from my grandma's house to Plum Creek (or Plum "Crick" if you're truly from Nebraska) to walk on the ice. For the past couple of years I have either declined the invite because I was too stuffed from Christmas food to consider doing anything as exhausting as walking or haven't gotten to go because it was too warm for anything to freeze over. Well, this year it was definitely cold enough (think single digit degrees - gross) and I figured I'd better take advantage. So I set aside my plans of A. napping and B. not getting frostbite, to slip and shuffle and slide down the iced over creek with my cousins and brothers. It was lovely.
The moral of the story is this, friends. Plans are good. Plans help us organize things and accomplish tasks. Plans make me happy. But what also makes me happy is spending time with the people I love and not necessarily having any end goal in sight. So I hope you get to truly relax and just be with those that you cherish. Most likely those are going to be the best moments you have.
Merry Christmas! Peace, Joy, Love, Hope abound.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Upside to Struggle, Or What One Should Remind Oneself When One's Bicycle is Stolen
If you don't follow me on Twitter (which obviously you should - @abbalange), then you may not have been informed of the very dire news that my bike has been stolen. Ripped it straight up off the bike rack where I HAD IT LOCKED UP. Right outside my apartment! Which apparently is more crime-ridden than I was aware of based on the window-bashing episode of a few weeks ago. And it's all the more painful because I was really falling in love with this bike. It was a nice old lady cruiser with a low seat so I didn't have to bend over while riding. It had a light and a rack and even a spot for a mile counting mechanism, thanks to the previous owner who totally pimped it out and then never used it. It was just the best bike! And now it's gone, off to live with someone who will surely not love it as much as I did.
As an aside, I'd like to take this moment and say that if YOU, person who stole my bike, due to a movie-worthy coincidence, are reading Sparkle, Sparlke, hear this: RUDE! If you had merely asked, I would have let you ride my bike around the block (obviously under my surveillance since you are not to be trusted.) But yeah, you're a big, fat jerk.
So, needless to say, I was struggling this morning. Monday always seems to punch me in the face, but today it just roundhouse kicked me in the gut. I spent most of the morning feeling totally bummed out, especially as I rode a different bike I borrowed from my parents which just wasn't the same, and was totally prepared to be thoroughly pissed off for the remainder of the day. But then I made remembered something I had heard on the radio this morning, and I'm going to pull it all together in that sparkly way you love so much.
The radio DJ this morning was talking about a woman who was studying differences between the approaches the United States and Asian countries take to education. Specifically the approaches to struggling. Through many conversations with both American and Asian families, she found that Americans tend to operate under the assumption that it's our intelligence that causes our success. On the other hand, in some Asian countries (they didn't state which ones), success is attributed to hard work and a "practice makes perfect" attitude. So when a person struggles with a concept or problem or idea, we Americans might figure the struggle is due to our lack of intelligence. Conversely, the conversations with these Asian families showed that they saw struggle as an opportunity instead of a detriment. The fact that one is struggling doesn't mean someone is dumb, it just means there's work to be done.
The obvious connection here would be to the fact that I feel that I'm struggling EVERY DAY in grad school, but no. I like to make things interesting on this blog, so I'm talking about how I'm struggling with the fact that someone took my bike! When these types of things happen, I just want to hate everyone. I struggle to remember that not everyone is a bike-stealer. But this is an opportunity to remind me that for the one person who stole my bike, there are dozens, perhaps hundreds of people who did NOT steal my bike! And that's kind of cool if you really think about it. For the most part, there are more kind, good people out there in the world. It's just those few jerks that distort our view of humanity. So if someone ripped you off today, try to remember all those people who didn't. Focus on the good. Revel in kindness.
And if you see someone on a black Pure Trek bike that looks stolen, get their address so I can send them a courteous thank you note for this life lesson.
As an aside, I'd like to take this moment and say that if YOU, person who stole my bike, due to a movie-worthy coincidence, are reading Sparkle, Sparlke, hear this: RUDE! If you had merely asked, I would have let you ride my bike around the block (obviously under my surveillance since you are not to be trusted.) But yeah, you're a big, fat jerk.
So, needless to say, I was struggling this morning. Monday always seems to punch me in the face, but today it just roundhouse kicked me in the gut. I spent most of the morning feeling totally bummed out, especially as I rode a different bike I borrowed from my parents which just wasn't the same, and was totally prepared to be thoroughly pissed off for the remainder of the day. But then I made remembered something I had heard on the radio this morning, and I'm going to pull it all together in that sparkly way you love so much.
The radio DJ this morning was talking about a woman who was studying differences between the approaches the United States and Asian countries take to education. Specifically the approaches to struggling. Through many conversations with both American and Asian families, she found that Americans tend to operate under the assumption that it's our intelligence that causes our success. On the other hand, in some Asian countries (they didn't state which ones), success is attributed to hard work and a "practice makes perfect" attitude. So when a person struggles with a concept or problem or idea, we Americans might figure the struggle is due to our lack of intelligence. Conversely, the conversations with these Asian families showed that they saw struggle as an opportunity instead of a detriment. The fact that one is struggling doesn't mean someone is dumb, it just means there's work to be done.
The obvious connection here would be to the fact that I feel that I'm struggling EVERY DAY in grad school, but no. I like to make things interesting on this blog, so I'm talking about how I'm struggling with the fact that someone took my bike! When these types of things happen, I just want to hate everyone. I struggle to remember that not everyone is a bike-stealer. But this is an opportunity to remind me that for the one person who stole my bike, there are dozens, perhaps hundreds of people who did NOT steal my bike! And that's kind of cool if you really think about it. For the most part, there are more kind, good people out there in the world. It's just those few jerks that distort our view of humanity. So if someone ripped you off today, try to remember all those people who didn't. Focus on the good. Revel in kindness.
And if you see someone on a black Pure Trek bike that looks stolen, get their address so I can send them a courteous thank you note for this life lesson.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Losing, Or... Not Winning.
Alright, I know my title isn't up to its usual clever goodness, but it's late, so give me a break, OK? I came to thinking about this post while watching the Cardinals vs. Giants game tonight. However, before I begin, I'd like to preface this by stating that I actually don't care so much about baseball, and generally I find it rather boring. (I mean, we could all save a little time if the pitchers didn't fake out first base every 3 minutes.) But I have to admit I found myself getting into the postseason last year and even more so this year, largely due to a significant person in my life who is a diehard Cards fan. So yeah, I was disappointed when the Cardinals lost tonight. I enjoy sports of any kind when they get super intense, and it's a bummer when it has to end.
Of course most of you do know that the Cardinals lost tonight. What you may not have known is that the St. John Junior Varsity volleyball team also lost tonight. (Slightly smaller headline on espn.com.) I would like to point out that I found some striking similarities and differences between the two losses that I think sheds light on life and humanity in general.
1. Losing isn't fun. I don't think that either the Cardinals or my volleyball girls enjoyed looking at the scoreboard and realizing that they were down by what seemed like an impossible amount. As I recall one of my 4th graders Molly who was out on the court and just about in tears after missing her second serve of the night, I think of David Freese, striking out for the 800th time, probably also almost in tears. David and Molly would probably have a lot to talk about after tonight. Sometimes you just can't get the job done, and losing doesn't feel good.
2. Losing is never fully lose-lose. Now, let me state for the record that I think it's ridiculous that anyone should be paid millions of dollars to swing a bat and take a lap every once in a while. But I can understand why you may think it feels worse to lose a game for a Cardinal than for a junior high volleyball player. There's a lot of money riding on those games! The whole franchise is worth millions! They should be delivering wins! Well, let me tell you what. There is a bag of Halloween goodies (including a pair of funky socks AND a pencil) that is waiting for those girls at their last practice on Wednesday. And there is probably a check for $56,000 waiting for each Cardinal when they get home, too. So it's not a total lose-lose. Everyone ends up getting what they were promised.
3. Losing doesn't last forever. There were more than a few downcast faces as the St. John JV team high-fived and "good game-ed" the other team. But a mere 4 minutes after our game was over, my volleyball girls were running around in the hallway, scrambling to get snacks from the concession stand. Now that's what I call resilience. I'd like to see the Cardinals running into the Giants' stadium after a loss, trying to snag a last-minute pretzel or hot dog. The day I see that, I'll think, "Hey. There's a guy who's got his priorities straightened out."
I guess what I'm saying is this: no one likes to lose. This much is obvious. We spend a lot of time practicing our craft to produce winners. If you're a Cardinal, you've been spending the last 20-30 years of your life intensely training for the moment when you get to make it count in front of the world. If you're a JV volleyball player, you've been spending the last eight weeks spacing out in practice and complaining that your canker sore is going to make it difficult to run laps. It's basically the same thing. So when it comes down to the wire and we can't quite nab the win, it's disappointing. However, I think if the Cardinals could all find the 4th grade girl deep inside them, they'd be better off for it. So if any of you Cardinals are reading this (Hi, guys), try to look at the bright side - there's usually ice cream waiting for you when you're done.
Of course most of you do know that the Cardinals lost tonight. What you may not have known is that the St. John Junior Varsity volleyball team also lost tonight. (Slightly smaller headline on espn.com.) I would like to point out that I found some striking similarities and differences between the two losses that I think sheds light on life and humanity in general.
1. Losing isn't fun. I don't think that either the Cardinals or my volleyball girls enjoyed looking at the scoreboard and realizing that they were down by what seemed like an impossible amount. As I recall one of my 4th graders Molly who was out on the court and just about in tears after missing her second serve of the night, I think of David Freese, striking out for the 800th time, probably also almost in tears. David and Molly would probably have a lot to talk about after tonight. Sometimes you just can't get the job done, and losing doesn't feel good.
2. Losing is never fully lose-lose. Now, let me state for the record that I think it's ridiculous that anyone should be paid millions of dollars to swing a bat and take a lap every once in a while. But I can understand why you may think it feels worse to lose a game for a Cardinal than for a junior high volleyball player. There's a lot of money riding on those games! The whole franchise is worth millions! They should be delivering wins! Well, let me tell you what. There is a bag of Halloween goodies (including a pair of funky socks AND a pencil) that is waiting for those girls at their last practice on Wednesday. And there is probably a check for $56,000 waiting for each Cardinal when they get home, too. So it's not a total lose-lose. Everyone ends up getting what they were promised.
3. Losing doesn't last forever. There were more than a few downcast faces as the St. John JV team high-fived and "good game-ed" the other team. But a mere 4 minutes after our game was over, my volleyball girls were running around in the hallway, scrambling to get snacks from the concession stand. Now that's what I call resilience. I'd like to see the Cardinals running into the Giants' stadium after a loss, trying to snag a last-minute pretzel or hot dog. The day I see that, I'll think, "Hey. There's a guy who's got his priorities straightened out."
I guess what I'm saying is this: no one likes to lose. This much is obvious. We spend a lot of time practicing our craft to produce winners. If you're a Cardinal, you've been spending the last 20-30 years of your life intensely training for the moment when you get to make it count in front of the world. If you're a JV volleyball player, you've been spending the last eight weeks spacing out in practice and complaining that your canker sore is going to make it difficult to run laps. It's basically the same thing. So when it comes down to the wire and we can't quite nab the win, it's disappointing. However, I think if the Cardinals could all find the 4th grade girl deep inside them, they'd be better off for it. So if any of you Cardinals are reading this (Hi, guys), try to look at the bright side - there's usually ice cream waiting for you when you're done.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Just When I Thought Politics Were Getting Me Down...
... I found out the worst. You guys, it's true. Emily "blahblahblah" Maynard and Jef "Yep, one 'F'" Holm from this most recent season of the Bachelorette are over. As in, they will not be living the dream with Ricki-Tick for the rest of time like we all thought they would. No tying of the knot, no elaborate wedding with a 2-hour TV special, no sneak peeks into their lives when they have beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed children together! Color me shocked and disappointed.
The state of the world today is sketchy, to say the least, and now THIS. I don't know how I'm going to handle it. Just thinking of Emily fake crying while oh-so-conveniently showing off her perfect manicure is enough to bring me to my own fake tears. And poor Jef. He's probably so bummed it didn't work out that he can't even gel his hair into that perfect Greased Lightening coif. (Just kidding. That would never happen.) And let's not forget the star player of this ill-fated season of the Bachelorette - Ricki. That girl is probably so confused as to why her mother protected her like some sort of mama bear on steroids, only to bring a strange man into the house for a mere three months of lovin'. At least we know that Emily's not sending any mixed signals to her impressionable daughter...
And speaking of impressionable, I have to admit, I was the fool. I thought this love would last. It breaks my heart to see that yet another reality show couple has bit the dust. I only hope they can find some sort of consolation in the fact that they're each ridiculously beautiful, or the fact that they're both so obviously loaded (I mean seriously, what single mom lives in a house like that?), or in the fact that they'll continue to be D-list celebrities for the next seven years. Maybe Emily will wheedle her way back onto the Bachelor to win Sean's heart, this time for real, people.
I am so distraught. I keep thinking, "What could I have done to stop this from happening?" And I always come back to the same answer. If only they would have read Sparkle, Sparlke, they would have found the answers to life's questions and the solution to saving their relationship! So as my gift to the world, I will somehow find a way to make this blog visible to Sean Lowe as the new season of the Bachelor starts. I will give him my advice, encouragement, and a little Sparlke to keep him going during those taxing luxury vacation dates. And when the show ends in happily ever after, I'll know I did my part to fill the world with the true joy and love that only a strangers-to-engaged-couple-in-60-days can bring. You're welcome, everyone.
The state of the world today is sketchy, to say the least, and now THIS. I don't know how I'm going to handle it. Just thinking of Emily fake crying while oh-so-conveniently showing off her perfect manicure is enough to bring me to my own fake tears. And poor Jef. He's probably so bummed it didn't work out that he can't even gel his hair into that perfect Greased Lightening coif. (Just kidding. That would never happen.) And let's not forget the star player of this ill-fated season of the Bachelorette - Ricki. That girl is probably so confused as to why her mother protected her like some sort of mama bear on steroids, only to bring a strange man into the house for a mere three months of lovin'. At least we know that Emily's not sending any mixed signals to her impressionable daughter...
And speaking of impressionable, I have to admit, I was the fool. I thought this love would last. It breaks my heart to see that yet another reality show couple has bit the dust. I only hope they can find some sort of consolation in the fact that they're each ridiculously beautiful, or the fact that they're both so obviously loaded (I mean seriously, what single mom lives in a house like that?), or in the fact that they'll continue to be D-list celebrities for the next seven years. Maybe Emily will wheedle her way back onto the Bachelor to win Sean's heart, this time for real, people.
I am so distraught. I keep thinking, "What could I have done to stop this from happening?" And I always come back to the same answer. If only they would have read Sparkle, Sparlke, they would have found the answers to life's questions and the solution to saving their relationship! So as my gift to the world, I will somehow find a way to make this blog visible to Sean Lowe as the new season of the Bachelor starts. I will give him my advice, encouragement, and a little Sparlke to keep him going during those taxing luxury vacation dates. And when the show ends in happily ever after, I'll know I did my part to fill the world with the true joy and love that only a strangers-to-engaged-couple-in-60-days can bring. You're welcome, everyone.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Why People Go To School, Or What I Tell Myself When I'm Starting To Feel Real Dumb
So there's this theory out there that you go to school to learn stuff. Wacky, right? Apparently you don't waste your time in class if you already know everything. Which is weird because I inevitably have this moment during every class where I start to panic because I feel like I don't understand anything. My mind starts reeling through the following thoughts:
"Oh my gosh. That person just said something that sounded really smart. They used a word that I don't even know. I wish I could get out my cell phone and look it up. But then I would just look like I'm texting, and I don't want the professor to think I'm a slacker. Maybe I should start bringing a dictionary to class. But then I would look really dumb, like I don't know any of the words. I'd use context clues if I knew what the rest of their sentence meant... wait, I should be listening to the prof's response. OK, wait, what's he talking about now? How did we get from that to this? I'm so confused. Maybe I should just nod a little... yeah, that's good. At least I look like I'm on the right page. Oh my gosh, I totally don't get what that person just said, but it sounded really intelligent..."
Or you know, something to that extent. It's usually at this point where I have a small mental breakdown and question my ability to complete grad school and also my entire life. Then I move to the resentful stage, which goes something like this:
"Ugh! I still don't get what we're talking about! What the heck is phenomenology anyways?? How is this going to impact my life? I mean, will I seriously not get a job if I can't explain the premise of this existential essay? I just want to talk about something that seems more relevant. I just want to say SOMETHING PERTINENT AND NOT SOUND LIKE AN IDIOT!"
Please note that instead of "phenomenology," you could insert any number of words that have about eight syllables each. And sometimes words that only have one syllable but are still confusing anyway. After I get a little worked up (still in my mind, rest assured), I move into the stage of shame, which sounds like this:
"Oh man, I know this must be important somehow. It's not the professor's fault if I'm just not bright enough to get it. But everyone else seems to basically know what's going on. Is that true? Or are they just as confused as me? Definitely not that person... or that person... or that person... they all have insightful comments. If I could just follow this train of thought for like five minutes, I might be able to get back on track. Ughhhhh, I don't know anything."
And eventually I'll circle 'round again to Phase 1: Utter Confusion. It's great! It strikes me that perhaps this process could be diagnosable as some sort of Perpetual Cycle of Perceived Academic Inferiority. I mean, if that's a real thing, I definitely have it... or am in it, or whatever.
I have to consciously remind myself that I'm in school precisely because I don't know everything. If I did, I'd not only not be in school, I'd probably be out like, instating world peace or something. But instead, I'm here. In grad school, working my mind's butt off (nice image, eh?) everyday to understand what the texts are saying, what my classmates are saying, what the professor is saying, and how it all fits together to make that thing called "art history." And when I remind myself this, I get a little faint glow of hope in my soul that eventually I'll understand the things that I struggle with today. I won't ever know everything, but I'll know more things, and that's a pretty cool thought. For those of you who are still in school (or if you're not, but still feel clueless about your job or life), remember this: You don't have to know everything now. Remind yourself that life is a learning process and it's supposed to be that way. And keep your mind open! Because that's how the knowledge gets in there.
Friday, September 21, 2012
A Day in The Life of an Art History Grad Student
Because I know you all were constantly wondering what it is that I do with my days, I will enlighten you on the daily schedule (more or less) of a graduate student in art history. Get ready to be very, very jealous.
7:45 - Alarm goes off. Commence to snooze for appropriate amount of time.
8:15 - Snooze one more time.
8:22 - Get up too quickly and immediately get massive head rush and almost fall over.
9:13 - Leave apartment to head to the class I'm TA-ing. Spend one whole minute trying to get the lock off my bike.
9:15-9:25 - Constant prayer mode that I do not get sideswiped by a bus while riding my bike. (Yes, I have an awesome helmet, but how much can that do when up against a bus??)
9:30-10:50 - Sit in the back of TA class and periodically tell people to get off Facebook/Twitter/Pinterest/etc. Feel really bad about this because I do not like confrontation.
10:55-11:05 - More prayer on the ride back to my apartment.
11:10-3:00 - Read various philosophical or theoretical texts. "Wait!" You say, "I thought you were in art history, not philosophy!" Yeah, I was under the same impression. However, it's all lofty theory at this point - how to achieve absolute knowledge and true self-consciousness and stuff. I'm sure it will all tie in at some point. Otherwise I will be just a little bit peeved. Oh, and I also eat lunch in here at some point, often accompanied by an episode of Friends, because seriously. I need to stay sane somehow.
3:15-3:25 - Wonder how long I will be able to hold out before I no longer want to ride my bike to class. As of now, it is still charming and pleasant, but come 30 degrees and slush, I may change my tune.
3:30-6:20 - Class. Hey remember when those 75 minute classes at Valpo used to feel so long? Ha! Those were the days. Usually we get a break, but not all the time! So that's a full 2 hours and 50 minutes of me feeling a little dumber every time someone says something really intelligent, when all I want is a dictionary so I can look up some of those big words they're using.
6:30-6:40 - Ride home dazedly on my bike. Feel as though brain has turned to mush. Not much time to recuperate though because ...
6:45-7:10 - Dinner of some sort, usually of the sandwich variety these days.
7:15-whenever I can't stand it anymore - Read, read, read! OK, I'll be honest, I'm not constantly reading the ENTIRE time. Sometimes when it gets to the point where I feel like I'm just "looking" at the page and no longer "reading," I'll take a break to check every social media outlet, hoping I can find some posts with improper use of grammar so at least I can feel self-righteous about that! Then I head back to the arena where I no longer feel I understand the English language at all... it's a balancing game, people.
12:00ish - Fall into bed and complete one Sudoku puzzle out of my little book, because I find it's therapeutic to end the day under the theme, "And now for something completely different..."
So that's basically it! I bet all of you are already Google searching the application requirements for art history, right? I thought so. In all seriousness, it's not too bad though. I have always been a nerd at heart and I enjoy school, even when I spend most of the time feeling very confused. As Papa Lange always said, "Think of it as a game! A puzzle you have to solve!" Granted, he was talking about math and I never thought it was very good advice. Worst game EVER, Dad. But I digress. As much as I complain, I like the challenge of a good puzzle. And I have been doing a lot of puzzling thus far. I suspect I will continue puzzling to some degree for the next two years. But hopefully at the end of it all, I'll be a much brighter person and also be qualified for some sort of employment. (That's really the true puzzle right now, right?)
I guess I forgot to mention all of the procrastination I do, too. That should result in an influx of Sparlke, Sparkle posts. Now you're really feeling lucky...
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Grad School, Or Why I Suspect My Eyeballs May Fall Out Before May 2014
Hello all! It's that time of year! I've turned the AC off and opened the windows to let the brisk fall air sweep through my apartment. The leaves are starting to turn their respective shades of red, gold and orange. Football season is in full swing (as is volleyball, but no one seems to care about that) and we Illinois fans are hunkering down for another long season of mediocrity. Isn't it great?! Oh yeah, also I will miss ALL of that because I will be reading until the END OF TIME.
Let me take about five lines of blog here to vent juuuust a little bit. How do the professors think we can get all this reading done?? I'm talking about hundreds upon hundreds of pages per week! It's crazy! And it's not like reading Harry Potter... it's reading Hegel! I thought Kant was really difficult to get through, and now I'm reading Hegel and Kant is starting to look more and more like Harry Potter... I'm not a slow reader generally, but I'm averaging about 30 pages every 2 hours. Yikes.
And scene! That's it people, that's the true story of my life. I feel a little bad complaining because how many times did I try to get into grad school? (Answer: more than once.) So I know that this opportunity is a huge blessing and I honestly do feel excited to go to class and see what the discussion will bring. However, it is pretty overwhelming at the same time. Maybe I'm just not quite back in "student mode" all the way. I still want my evenings to be free for relaxing, but alas, this is not to be so.
And yet of course I'm not literally reading every single second of the day. Of course I give myself breaks or I'd go insane. I hang out with friends or go see my fam because it changes the pace a little bit. It's just a lot of work and I'm still learning how to balance it all. But that's sort of just life, eh? Doesn't everyone have a big project at work or a huge paper to write or a house to clean or something and it just seems like it's taking over your life? I know they say death is the great equalizer, but I'm willing to debate that it might be stress.
As your fall gets into swing, I hope you find time for balance in your life. Try to remember that at the end of the day, you did what you could. And if you didn't really do what you could, you can try again tomorrow. No one can be motivated 100% of the time. It's OK to take a break now and then. Maybe I'm just trying to reassure myself, but I do believe the old saying, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." And I really don't want to wake up one morning to find the news talking about how one of my friends got so consumed by his or her work that they chased their loved ones around with an ax and ended up freezing to death in a hedge maze. I just don't! It's morbid. So, please, for everyone's sake and safety, do a little something you love at least once a day, even if it's just a for a few minutes. You'll thank yourself, and people will probably want to be around you more often too! (You know, because of the lack of ax.)
Well, now that I've gone on for a while here, it's time for me to get some reading done...
Let me take about five lines of blog here to vent juuuust a little bit. How do the professors think we can get all this reading done?? I'm talking about hundreds upon hundreds of pages per week! It's crazy! And it's not like reading Harry Potter... it's reading Hegel! I thought Kant was really difficult to get through, and now I'm reading Hegel and Kant is starting to look more and more like Harry Potter... I'm not a slow reader generally, but I'm averaging about 30 pages every 2 hours. Yikes.
And scene! That's it people, that's the true story of my life. I feel a little bad complaining because how many times did I try to get into grad school? (Answer: more than once.) So I know that this opportunity is a huge blessing and I honestly do feel excited to go to class and see what the discussion will bring. However, it is pretty overwhelming at the same time. Maybe I'm just not quite back in "student mode" all the way. I still want my evenings to be free for relaxing, but alas, this is not to be so.
And yet of course I'm not literally reading every single second of the day. Of course I give myself breaks or I'd go insane. I hang out with friends or go see my fam because it changes the pace a little bit. It's just a lot of work and I'm still learning how to balance it all. But that's sort of just life, eh? Doesn't everyone have a big project at work or a huge paper to write or a house to clean or something and it just seems like it's taking over your life? I know they say death is the great equalizer, but I'm willing to debate that it might be stress.
As your fall gets into swing, I hope you find time for balance in your life. Try to remember that at the end of the day, you did what you could. And if you didn't really do what you could, you can try again tomorrow. No one can be motivated 100% of the time. It's OK to take a break now and then. Maybe I'm just trying to reassure myself, but I do believe the old saying, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." And I really don't want to wake up one morning to find the news talking about how one of my friends got so consumed by his or her work that they chased their loved ones around with an ax and ended up freezing to death in a hedge maze. I just don't! It's morbid. So, please, for everyone's sake and safety, do a little something you love at least once a day, even if it's just a for a few minutes. You'll thank yourself, and people will probably want to be around you more often too! (You know, because of the lack of ax.)
Well, now that I've gone on for a while here, it's time for me to get some reading done...
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