I don’t understand why I can’t just snap my fingers and have bagels and cream cheese appear in front of me.
I’m getting myself motivated to get up and get my coffee and the baby wants some tea. Yeah, it’s that kind of a day. Classes are over. I turned in my last regular assignment yesterday (and had a nightmare last night that I did it totally wrong because that prof’s directions are always 40 pages long and I don’t have time for all that), and I have a final portfolio due next Friday. I imagine I’ll be able to get it done before then. And then I shall say farefuckingwell to this semester. It was such a bear. My classes were good and I learned a lot but it was way too hard overall. Interestingly enough, that seems to be the consensus among any student types that I talk to.
I really felt like the last few weeks I was just barely hanging on. I skimmed readings to try to get the general idea, but I think I stopped actually reading early in November. I did assignments with the sole goal of getting them done, no real concern over whether or not it was any good.
At some point it all got to be too much and I’ll feel really stupid if my grades suck because I overextended myself (for the record, grades sucking is C level. I’m perfectly happy with Bs). I just really want to get through this program relatively quickly so I can start working in a field that really uses whatever interests or talents that I claim to have.
My version of motivation is so weird. I was telling Angela the other day that I don’t really have any ambitions in life…not career-wise, anyway. It may sound trite but my family is what makes me happy. I want a career that will help me provide for them, that I like, and that will never try to take precedence in my life. I understand that if I don’t commit myself to working 100 hours a week, I’m never going to be some hotshot, but I just don’t care about any of that. Even if I didn’t have the husband or the baby, I would never want to spend all of my time working. I value the time that I’m able to just sit and think too much. I feel like a lot of people around my age are obsessed with finding the perfect career or the best career, but I feel like I’ll never have passion for any profession as much as I have passion for just living and being. Seriously, how could any job even hope to come close?