Things are not getting better for me. I have an avalanche of work to do. The graphics final project is due tomorrow at 1. I am halfway done. I must get it to work. Like have to, really have to. For OOP, all I have is a blank table. Not good, seeing as the project is due Tuesday. And is worth 40 percent of my grade.
I'm turning into a zombie. I alternate between sleep and computing, sleep and computing, over and over again. Which reminds me that I still have to edit my short story for creative writing class to turn it in Wednesday. I guess I'll have time for that Tuesday after I turn in my abysmal project.
Even though I have all this crap due, I comfort myself by contemplating all the free time I will have starting on Thursday- a month of free time. I hate living like this. It's so narrow, dehumanizing almost. All I can think about is myself. Me, me, my stuff, how will this affect me. All I can see is the here and now. I'm used to lying around thinking about the meaning of life. Now I'm lying around thinking about how much work I have to do.
I haven't read a regular book (non-textbook) in about a month. I haven't exercised in about the same amount of time. I haven't cleaned my apartment in three weeks. I'm tired all the time, I'm worried all the time, all I ever talk about is work.
Sometimes I think about the past- it's funny how a song will take me back to a time in my childhood or adolescence. A guy who went to high school with me was our waiter the other night. I didn't say anything to him about it. But I kind of recognized him, and then I saw how he acted and then I knew it must be him. He was always funny and popular and a true "jock" in the most cliched way possible. I wonder if he dropped out of college- something I'm contemplating right now.
And then there's my sister and her prissy ways. She sent me an e-mail the other day. I miss her sometimes, but we've grown so far apart I sometimes don't think that she's the same person. I don't know why I'm so stuck on high school. But in the past couple of years, it's like she evolved into one of those people who were just too cool for me. She and her friends strike me as rich and spoiled and I feel so much lower on the social totem pole than they are.
I'm the last one to bloom, if that ever really happens. Why can't I just grow up? Does growing up necessarily mean growing apart? I've left home, but I've yet to really forge my own life, or at least what other people see as a life.