I don’t know what to write about. Nor do I know what I’m doing with my life. College is a strange four years where you work your ass off for something you don’t know whether or not you’ll truly enjoy for the next fifty years of your life. It’s filled with hardships, broken friendships, sadness, constant homesickness, and the need for an IV of liquid courage.
More often than not, I find myself asking if I truly want to be in the profession I’m studying. Is this awful statistics class worth it? And I know I’ll cry at least five times in calculus next semester. Is it worth it? I feel like all college students ask these questions so often, and I think it’s really unfortunate. Sure, not many of us have a “calling” where we know exactly what we’re supposed to do for the rest of our life. However, the fact that I’m spending four years of my life in consistent stress worrying about whether or not I’ll get an A or a B on my anatomy lecture exam seems almost comical to me sometimes.
I want to live my life to the fullest. I want to listen to good music every day and lay around on Mondays with someone special. I want to chase my dog around the house until he snorts. I want to get lunch with my mom and see my dad for dinner. I want to support my sister in every endeavor, and show her just how much she truly is loved. I want to hug all of my friends for hours and go to cheap movies and eat Cheez-Its on the couch. I want to go to concerts and dance like an idiot, just because I can. I want to embrace every season home exhibits. I want to wear chunky sweaters with socks and sandals, and messy hair. I want to live in a world filled with love and happiness, because I would only wish that for anyone else.
It’s hard living in a world where you hear about awful things every day. Why should I have to worry about someone hiding around the corner while I’m walking back from the library or hanging out with a friend? Why can’t everyone just love each other and accept the fact that we’re all different? We all deal with our own hardships, screw-ups, and mistakes. I’m sick of hearing the highlights of all the things that go wrong every day.
I want smiles and laughter. I don’t want stress, homesickness, or hardships. I deserve the best life I can possibly live, as does everyone else. Sort of funny how not having anything to write about brings our different emotions, isn’t it?
