It's the weekend
The STP starts tomorrow morning.
I'm doing it with some friends.
It's gonna be awesome.
[disclaimers: doing it in two days, not worrying at all about speed, just having a nice relaxed weekend ride. For 200+ miles. Hurrah]
Something about going on a long ride, or a long run, always tends to clear my head for a day or two and convince myself that everything's going to be okay, that I'm doing worthwhile work, that I'm not just wasting my time going through graduate school. Hopefully this ride will similarly help, for at least long enough to get me through the first draft of this blasted essay.
Question: what in the hell am I doing here?
Answer: I don't know, but hopefully I can stop asking myself long enough to muddle through the rest of this quarter.
In a situation reminiscent of every other academic experience I've had, it's not like the work is remotely difficult - I've just got to muster up the motivation to do it. I was chasing a challenge when I got here, and I still haven't found it... or, at least, I developed a wicked tolerance long enough ago that I don't remember a time before I had it. My feeling now is eerily like my third and fourth years at Stetson. I've got this sick hollowness in the pit of my stomach where I know I need something harder, but I also know that the more I chase it, the quicker I'll go through it. What was it John Berryman said? Ahh, that's right:
Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're bored
means you have no
Inner Resources." I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as Achilles,
who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
But - I digress. This weekend will be fun. I'll spend time biking, with friends, and I'll forget about these pesky existential questions for a couple of days. The weather's supposed to be pretty nice, too.
All y'all have a good day.