And, on top of everything else, i’m losing my voice. Lovely.
by krisis
thoughts
Working on my resume makes my heart hurt. I am not privy to the special magic wherein i can convey the excellence of my professional abilities via a single piece of paper. I wish i had a blog of all my many splendorous work accomplishments that i could refer potential employers to. Failing that, i am considering augmenting my on-the-job skills with a unique crayon drawing on the back of each one. Signed and numbered.
Three related paragraphs that have absolutely no bearing on anything.
I am so chirpy on the phone. “Thanks so much for your help!,” i expel with force. “You have a great holiday!” i command with enthusiasm. I suspect the clerks in guidance offices across Montgomery County hardly know what to say to me, which is apt, because i hardly know what i am saying. I imagine fielding a phone call from me is like trying to catch water from a great stone fountain in a meager paper cup … the stream steady with random variation, the force and volume too great for the vessel.
Last night i was walking down Walnut street, thinking about how everyone wants to be famous. Everybody does. Not all face-famous, of course, not all actors or politicians, but famous for something; inventing, writing, singing, designing, growing record-sized pumpkins, etc. I always thought i’d be a good famous person, because i think i understand what a public expects from someone in possession of fame. But, to be famous you must become famous, and to become famous you or your product must be recognized, and i and the three or four products that i consider to be eligible are currently incognito, embedded in our stealthy and unnoticed positions until further notice.
Sometimes i think that i will take on a character, change my carriage and manner of speaking, to see if i am somehow different than before. When i arrive in the office to find it full with dozens of perspective students, or when i step into a store i’ve never been near before. What great acting it would be, what a superb lie, to alter myself not according to a script but in every facet of my ongoing self.
I’ve never been lazy before. If i didn’t do schoolwork, it was because it just didn’t challenge me, and when i missed a day of work it was because my body really needed a rest. Now i am skipping classes because i don’t want to be troubled by walking to them, and missing work because i’d rather stay at home and play guitar.
I never used to do these things. Is there really something about Senior year, something so real and nearly tangible that it totally sidetracked my post-co-op ambition and turned it into this? Waking up early and reading webpages instead of going to work, skipping classes i think are boring, and skipping optional papers that would boost my grade to an easy A?
Or maybe, just maybe, that last co-op just gave me too strong of a taste of freedom, both financial and academic, and i am now having a hard time imaging my life any other way.