Let Me Not Think

I have finally acquired new pieces of footwear to wriggle my toes in. There’s new music I find daily, and my reading’s back up to pace. Things in Gujjuland finally feel normal again.

A large part of why I haven’t been able to write as much is because I’ve been running around for something or the other – even hopping cities in the process, since September started. It’s all been quite lovely, but sometimes how tired you are gets to you. Writing ended up falling out of my priority list, which sucks. But eh. Guess I’m human and can’t do everything I want to all the time.

I feel like University has started to become this singular quest to figure out what you like the most. As a first or a second year, you have the luxury of time – in terms of the Committees you join, for example. This is largely because no Committee will entrust you with significant portions of work in your first year. But also because you’re given a lot of scope for mistakes – you’re new to the general University atmosphere, and probably not as good with managing your time.

But that changes in the third year. Suddenly, expectations are automatically higher. That you’ll use your time judiciously, but also be able to devote all your time and energy to everything you sign up for. It’s strange. Sometimes when faculty ask me why I missed a meeting or something, I’m very tempted to say that I was addressing a more pressing matter – for example another Committee’s, far more important piece of work. That’s likely to offend them, so I don’t say it, and instead create mental cariacatures of them in my head.

To make memes out of. Nothing else.

It’s rather frustrating. I find that I can no longer simply sign up for everything I’m interested in. That I actually have to adopt a more cautious approach in figuring out what I want to do. Evaluate whether something will be worth the time, but even if it is, whether it will be worth the emotional investment.

Why?

Because work here is rarely not an emotional investment. I’m attached to the smallest, strangest things. Gulab jamun tasting nice at an event is a good example. I take personal offence if someone didn’t like it.

(especially when I did.)

(but that frustration may be misdirected. maybe I’m upset at my lowering jamun standards.)

Whatever.

Basically I now have to think more about things. And I don’t want to.

But the alternative is never getting to sleep.

The struggle is real.

 

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