I am evermore only motivated to do that about which I am passionate. When I have
a passion for what I’m doing, it shows. I get up early, stay up late, and work
my ass off in between. In contrast, I’ve been late to my first class about 75%
of the time so far this term. Classes/Grades themselves have failed to be enough
to get me moving anymore, it seems. The work itself has to be its own reward. An
example: I have this paper to write. I could really not care less about it. I
don’t want to do it and the thought of making myself do it makes my insides turn;
for the same class, however, I also have a project due after this paper that I’m
really excited about and that is much futher along than said paper because it’s
interesting, strongly related to what I love to do, and more worthwhile.
I’ve manged for a dozen years or so to be motivated by school itself. “School is
my job” I used to say, and went nose to the grindstone. I’ve nearly killed
(probably literally) myself for school and been passionate about it. For the
past few months, slowly growing in intensity, I’ve had this disconcerting
unsettled feeling. I’ve been unable to concentrate for whole days at a time. I
went home this weekend partially with the intent to ‘re-set’ so to speak, and
come back ready to get back to work and round out this term. What I really came
back to was strange moodswings, meloncholy, and the above realization.
This is going to make the next year and a half very interesting.
Unless, of course, I can manage to rediscover that lost motivation. School just
isn’t “my job” anymore. I have a job, friends, and passions that suddenly mean a
lot more to me than 2400 words on the evolution of dramatic conventions from
1800 to 1930.
All of this has made me feel like crap. There’s still a part of me that cares,
and it’s fighting valiantly and furiously with the rest of me. A little
something, deep down inside flips and twists at the thought of not graduating
Magna Cum Laude. (yes, I’m that close) Then I think about the thousands of
people who don’t and… *sigh* that’s really all I can do to manifest this
termoil so that’s been my away message for a while this evening.
I was sprawled on my bed this evening, thinking about all this, and fell asleep.
Six hours later my body considered the night over, and now here I am, wide awake
at 4am. Which, of course, serves only to piss me off just that much more.
Adding insult to injury, I woke up basically just in time to watch E sign off
for the night. That aches for more reasons than I think I can name.
All I can do is lie on the floor, stare at the ceiling, and listen to Mad
Season.