Back to the Center of It

Okay, I moved to the city to "find myself" and all that crap, but really I've just gotten lost in the big process that college has become. (Please note: this is not a long, bitching rant, just give me a second to set this up).

These recent years, I was too preoccupied getting through life to spend time living it. What I wanted was pushed aside to make room for what I had to do.

I don't like school. I never have. I don't care about grades, as long as I pass. Is that seriously the way one should tackle a $140,000 education? I have become jaded and view this opportunity as a burden. It's so sad. The saddest part is that the hatred I feel towards school consumes me, and makes me miss out on the good things. I have been so busy hating classes and papers and presentations that I have forgotten what I enjoy, and what is at the core of me.

I love working with my hands, and fixing things. I love roofing houses, manual labor, and building things. I'm very hands on; if something is broken, I have to fix it. I am not okay with a lopsided coffee table or a squeaky door. I like demolition and construction.

Examples:
When I was 7 and my brother was 10, he got a tool bench for Christmas and I got an E-Z Bake Oven. He was the one making brownies, and I was the one going at a 2x4 with a hacksaw.

In sixth grade, I helped roof my godparents house. The following summer, I was 13 and I laid and nailed the shingles on the majority of my parent's house. That Christmas, I put a pneumatic nailer on my Christmas list. I got a cordless drill.

I fix things my guy friends can't fix in their apartments (door jams, furniture, faucets, appliances) and they look at me dumbfounded. Yes, I realize I am not normal, and you're welcome.

Point is, I love to work with my hands and fix things. My parents always thought I would be an engineer because I loved to change the way things worked, after figuring out how they worked in the first place. (Too bad engineering = math).

Also, most little girls love ponies and puppies and kitties and bunnies, et cetera. I never grew out of that. I love, love, love to be around animals, to take care of them. I need more of that.

Lastly, I miss mattering. In my life, nobody depends on me. It doesn't really matter if I show up at work; tourists will still eat pizza and the world will keep going 'round. It doesn't matter if I go to class or turn in a paper; the world will not be changed either way. If I were to stop shopping and eating out, those stores and restaurants would still function without my business. I am doing nothing for the betterment of the world, and I think that that is the most frustrating aspect of my current life: I am stuck in this college situation because of the financial investment already made, but have no motivation to do well because it doesn't mean anything. I am not helping anybody. I am not changing the world. I am not even changing myself, just losing the things that I used to define myself by.

The most "hands-on" I get these days is turning on my laptop, and filling my cat's food dish just isn't all that fulfilling. I need to mean something, to have a purpose, and to have something to wake up for in the morning.

loving reflection,
amk

Me: "My grandpa used to blame his farts on a spider in the room."
Eric: "The Jamaican Barking Spider?!?!?!"
Me: "Yeah!"
Nital: (under her breath) "It's a white people thing. It's a white people thing. It's a white people thing."

Your favorite barn cat!