Well, friends, here we go. At some point soon (like, before Friday) I’m going to do a round up of all the claaaaaaaassy reading I’ve been doing, and perhaps all the TV watching (which has been a mite classier, but that might be generous), but I thought I would pop in today and update you on what I have found to be the biggest confusion of post-graduate life, officially one month in: finding something to do with all the hours in the day.
After thirteen years of public school doing a billion activities at first to learn something and so my mom didn’t murder me (day camp, swimming lessons, golf and tennis camp, ettiquite lessons, girl scouts), then to learn something, get into college, and so I didn’t kill my mom and she still didn’t kill me (drama, forensics, Student Council, NHS, a brief stint in Quiz Bowl), I got into college. While this was initially a respite (summer camp all year forever! With other nerds!), after I realized they expected me to work for my knowledge it quickly became even more exhausting, especially since like most students at Wash U I believe I have a minor (second major?) in extracurriculars (concentration: quick, courteous email response despite mounting rage). I also succeeded in borrowing some of the over-achiever guilt I had avoided for most of my life, so even when I had time off I felt deep waves of guilt if I did anything too frivolous. This does not mean that I didn’t have fun at school, nor does it indicate that I did not waste so so much time doing dumb stuff (ask me how much television I have seen in my life. Or over the last four years. Ask me.), but I felt twinges of guilt that no longer apply to me. Also, that was on borrowed time, max I could spend three hours in front of the TV watching bad USA shows before I had to go read a billion pages of some lame book about New York (I hope you’re not reading this, Dan, I enjoyed your class, but I believe my final paper addressed this issue). All of this is to point out the sharp change from then to now.
Now, yes, I work, currently, something along the lines of 9 to 5. But this work is not the kind of thing you can take home, except in that I live where I work. Sure, if someone knocks on my door with nail polish on their face confused as to how to get it off I will find my nail polish remover and deal with that, but it’s not like there’s much prep work for taking care of children, as long as you can think of things to do with them and places to go. Thus, I have unheard of free time. From 7pm to midnight I have nothing to do. That’s five hours. Five hours, people. Where I have no requirements on my time. And it. Is killing me.
As you can see in the various pictures I have taken on the iphone (look up!), I have begun delving into nail art. I am half way through a scarf I started three days ago. I have used up almost a whole sheet of postcard stamps and ACTUALLY SENT THE POSTCARDS (if you want some, I have like 100 more postcards, by the way)! I have baked, I have found mango juice, I have gone out to eat by myself, I have colored, I have made origami bows. Tomorrow I’m going to rit dye a pair of denim shorts I own purple. I am blogging! As you will soon see, I have been reading trashy nonsense voraciously and have devoured movies and television and all the fashion magazines I can find. It is absurd.
So, that’s my first realization about Being a Grown Up: you have to find hobbies. And that is kind of exciting, but also confusing. I’m not sure how to deal with it yet, but I think trying everything is usually the advice people give. So, on it! Anyway, to avoid ending on a hollow sounding epiphany, does anyone want a scarf with some holes in it and uneven stitches? Because I can totally give that to you.