Sunday, October 16, 2005
post the ninth
Every day is essentially the same to me. I wake up way too early, I stumble into the shower, get dressed (after exiting the shower), eat breakfast while seeing that I still don't have any new e-mails, and head off to class. I usually fall asleep in at least one class, generally German history (on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays) or linguistics (Tuesdays and Thursdays). I go to the library and answer a few questions, write something here, and so forth. Some days I go to work. Some days I don't. I come home, sometimes eat some food, sometimes do some homework, and go to sleep so I can do it all over again.
The days are so similar now that I can't tell them apart anymore. One night I was getting ready for bed and had to stop and think if I'd gone to work that day. If I had, then it would be a Monday or a Wednesday, so I would have to bring my Tuesday/Thursday stuff to class. I work at the same place as my roommate, so I asked him. He gave me a funny look and said that we'd only just gotten off of work a few hours before. I absolutely couldn't remember going. I'm sure I did, but I hadn't any memory of it. Everything feels like a big blur to me. It's a little weird, actually.
There's a song lyric that popped into my head as I was writing this: "I'm not living, I'm just killing time." Bonus points to you if you know who wrote it. I wonder if that's where I am right now. I think I'm enjoying myself, but I don't know how much living I'm really doing. No one wants to think of themselves as merely wasting time. I hope I've made some difference in someone's life recently/ever. I guess it's hard to get any sort of acknowledgement when you're anonymous, though. If I were to go by my real name, maybe I'd get more attention, or gratitude, or recognition, or whatever you want to call it. As it is, I hide behind my fake name and wonder if anything really matters.
This is the sort of thing I think about when it's quiet, I'm tired, and I'm the only one home who isn't asleep.