pure FORESHADOWING (nifra_idril) wrote,

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Funk or Die!

Thwarted again by my own inability to read, I just saw an entry for the Fuck or Die Challenge, and I thought it said 'Funk or Die' and I got so excited. 'Funk or Die? That rules!' thought I. How on earth do you write that story!? "And then everybody grooved out!! The end!!" I was way into it!

Now there's a part of me that wants that challenge to be a reality, though honestly, it would work better as a cd exchange, and honestly redux, I am in no way qualified to run anything as I am highly inept and also probably will forget or just be lazy, and by lazy I mean overdramatic in my slothlike tendencies.

In other news, it's the eve of my one day off, and I am bored out of my gourd. I've been repeating that mentally since I left work today, thinking, "I must find a way to work that into conversation. That's good, I have to use that." (Anyone out there harboring illusions that I'm not a huge dorky spazz has just had those illusions shattered, haven't you?)

So I've come to something of a breakthrough when it comes to my attitude toward my writing: what I have to do is stop being convinced that what I write needs to be good, and just, you know. Write.

*grins* Seems like a gimme, doesn't it?

Yeah, so, I've reached that point intellectually, but in practice, there's a level of grimacing and freaking out that goes into me trying to do that. Last night I had to walk away from the general computer area of the house and have several stiff drinks before I could even think about it. Then I fell asleep and had to get up and go to work. (I would just like to say: I work all the time now! What's that about!? I don't get it!)

Actually, I retract the parentheses around that statement:I work all the time now! What's that about!? I don't get it! is germaine(? one's a name, I know, but I can't really think of which it is right now, so the e will stay on until I learn better) to where I'm going with this post next. Which is here:

It's probably funny to everybody out there who actually isn't a huge spoiled college kid brat like myself, the agonies that I find myself experiencing now that I have to be a real person and work. Actually, it's even funny to the me of last summer, and the summer before. I've forgotten what it's like to have to wake up at a set time every morning, and then go spend a set number of hours in one place, doing a set of tasks pleasantly and making money while doing so.

Realistically speaking, it's not hard. It's really not. I even get the required amount of sleep, the reccomended amount of meals, the job is air conditioned and doesn't involve hard labor at any point. The most intense my day gets is when I have to face the Cursed Machine *cue lightening*. Or when there is a really hard to deal with customer, but that's a seperate issue.

At the same time, though, I find myself saying things like, "I should go to bed early, I've got work tomorrow" and then looking at myself in the mirror and being utterly struck by the absurdity of that statement. Me? Work? Surely you jest. my reflection seems to say, and yet, no. I don't really know exactly what I'm trying to describe here, and I know that I'm not doing it eloquently, but here's what it is: there's such a disconnect between college and the real world for people who spend most of their time on campus, surrounded by other college students that when one finds oneself having to interact in a regular day-to-day normal world interaction and situation that it seems completely alien. It's like you completely lose the ability to cope with the world in an appropriate way.

And when I say you, I defintely mean me, because I'm probably the only freakazoid with this problem. But honestly, what it's like is that I'm waking up from my real life with a hang over, and being expected to operate in this weird heavily Republican, Southern, religious dream world where I have to perform tasks like procuring money for my continued existence, and wondering when I'll be able to return to the world I think of as real. That is, the academic, liberal Northeastern intellectual elitism I live for most of the year.

It's just so strange, the way I get so wrapped up in this bubble from reality when I'm at school, and then I come home and I find myself plunged into an ice-bath of the actual world. And this is only for the summer, so I shudder to think what it'll be like after graduation.

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