Started reading Questionable Content this weekend. Good stuff. I’ve decided that when I have a few spare moments to procrastinate, I’m going to add a webcomics roll to this site. How else can we spread the word about the cool stuff that we read?
I wouldn’t let myself start an offical countdown until the days were in the single digits, because it would only serve as a point of fixation and aggravation for my senioritis. Now that there are 7 days left, I think it’s OK. In a way, now, it’s sorta calming. I took one of my favorite photos from Starved Rock this summer and overlayed a countdown. A winding wooded path, dappled sunlight and devoid of people. Tranquil.
Small progress is being made on the Shakespeare paper (the last of my college career.) I now have a sense of the issues that I want to explore. I now need to read another of my secondary sources and the play itself in light of my readings. My intention is to have everything done by Thursday night. According to the current weather forecast, it’s supposed to be in the high 50s on Friday. It would be just perfect if I were more or less done that day and could play in the sun.
This coming week is going to be full of a lot of “last” things. Such as today, my last Studio changeover. Not a weepy/sad event, but certainly a thoughtful one. I find myself wanting to pass on my key ring in person to my sucessor. It would mean a lot to me to be able to do it that way. I know that won’t fly by Security, but, what can I say, the stewardship that goes along with those keys, while not significant in size, is certainly a very personal and significant thing. It’s time for me to pass it on and I’m OK with that.
As E pointed out to me this evening, though this week may be full of lasts, the coming weeks will be filled with firsts. And I’m ok with that too, even if I am scared shitless.
I often wonder how he feels about all this. I know that I would probably find myself reliving my own experiences. I would probably loathe doing that too, and I don’t know that I could completely keep it from flavoring how I felt about the other person at the time. Of course, that memory is always flavored by time and experience, for better and for worse. I know that sometimes I must seem so… little to him. Understandable, since I am, after all, but I tend to pride myself on trying to be mature. Nevertheless, I’m being a whiny bitch sometimes; I just hope he understands.
My mind’s been fixated a lot lately on what my life could be like in a couple of months/years. Of course, he’s a large factor in a very positive, secure and warm fuzzy domestic sort of way. (Discussion of this sort of thing seems to make him uncomfortable, so I try not to mention it. It usually escapes at some point in our conversations as a whiny “I miss you”.) It’s difficult now for me to think about the nuances of Henry V when I’m waiting to hear back about jobs, contemplating the direction of my career, living situations, and struggling with this overwhelming desire to be completely independant as soon as possible. His presence is a reassuring, stable thing. It’s a bit of security in this current sea of uncertainty. (And whoo-boy am I melodramatic tonight.) I just hope it’s not too much pressure for either one of us. Is it selfish that I miss so badly being held?
I can’t shake the feeling that I’m overreacting; that I am making a much bigger deal out of this than I should. It’s so hard, though, to get an objective opinion. My peers are here too, but not really as they’ve still got a term; younger friends don’t understand it quite the same way because they’re not nearly so close; and older friends are mellowed by time, so to speak. I’m used to having a guage by which I can judge myself, but I don’t really have one here, and I don’t really even have like experiences to compare it to. I guess this is one of those firsts.
*sigh* It’s now 3:30 am and I still have class tomorrow morning, so I’ll stop rambling for now.