Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Heartfelt Letters I Write To Myself: Finals Fatigue


Hey kids! 
It’s the last day of Finals for me, thank Christ. The work is alright, I mean I can get through it, and to be honest I have no right to bitch. My schedule’s easier now than it was in High School, so I’m sitting around studying  Film theory while the grad student sitting  two rows down in the library is losing their minds over MicroBiology or Chemical Engineering or some other insanely difficult subject that I can’t even comprehend in it’s entirety. I can understand the basic classes. Math. History. PE. those I can wrap my head around but the shit that some of these people are taking equally blows my mind and makes me feel like the lowest, most basic form of shit for  EVER bitching about my school workload. There’s people out here actively fighting for a career that will change lives and further the development of mankind as a species. Me? I’m sitting around my Screenwriting class making wise cracks about Batman. I was built for college.
But these other people fascinate me, their dedication to each class and subject. That’s something I never had to undergo. I was THAT kid in high school, that one twerp who didn’t have to study for jack shit because for whatever reason i was inherently smarter than most. Granted I read alot and seriously, what the hell else was I going to do? My idea of social interaction was if a girl glanced at me for more than a second or two, I took that as a moral victory. But I was able to get by without doing dick throughout school, and even into college. BRCC was a grade A joke, basically an extended form of high school where teachers took attendance, penalized you points for talking in class, and treated you like you were in the ninth grade. The classes were nothing, if you stayed awake through 80% of them you were fine and dandy. But here, LSU’s a whole other ball game that I wasn’t prepared for. It takes daily dedication to reading the notes, understanding concepts, actually taking the time to proofread and edit papers instead of slapping them together with tooth picks and glue the night before and getting  an A. You actually have to, dare I say it… work. Scary right?
And I think I’m the only person this is a revelation too. I run into the guys I went to High School with all the time, well run into/see passingly/say “Hi, what’ve you been up to for the last two years?”. But they’re on the ball, I’m three years into college and I feel like an idiot freshman still trying to  figure out what a damn Bluebook is. It’s  better though, I had to go through one shit kicker of a learning curve though. And Oh Boy does my grade show it.
Speaking of people from High School. Today I was sitting in the library, going through note cards when I noticed that a group of people that I had actively known two years prior were sitting less than 20 feet from me. These were people I interacted with on a day to day basis, hell I had a major crush on one of the girls who was sitting there with her boyfriend. And that moment I had a momentary thought of crossing the empty space and saying “Hey, remember me!” Then common sense kicked in and I packed up my stuff and skedaddled.
What’s the protocol on something like that? I know I’m showing my unsociable side but seriously. Do you just walk up to them and sit down, ask how they’re doing, just join up and study with these guys who I haven’t said two words to since before the Avengers came out? I honestly don’t know. It feels like an anomaly because all of them have been here for the past two years. When they saw one another the year after High School it wasn’t weird, just like coming back from Summer Vacation all over again. But for me it’s different, it’s like I was the kid who went away for two years and came back completely different. And it’s not even like I went some where awesome that would justify conversation; it’s like I went to a remedial school for two years and finally came back to join the cool kids and only then realized how much of a separation there actually was between us. I can’t imagine they’re the same people they were in High School, which I’m sure is a good thing. And I know for damn certain that I’m not the same scared of my shadow dork that I was in High School. So, what’s my problem? Why is this instigation of age old relationships such a bur in my butt?
I swear it’s that old sense of self depreciation; that same asshole in my head who says I’m a hideous troll that no girl would ever want to talk to, that incessant negativity that is always there for me, ready to leap in the second I try and conjure up anything that even resembles self confidence. It’s like the old Jeremy’s come back to life. In those moments, I feel scared of them laughing  at me. I’m terrified of the rejection from the people who’s opinions, at one time, I held in such insanely high regard. In High School, those people were your world, their approval was all that  mattered. And I always felt like a discarded sock that didn’t fit anymore, like a misfit toy without an island. But things have changed, I”m not that same terrified kid. I’ve grown up, kinda. I’m more sure of myself than I was, more secure with who I am. So why does that fear keep kicking me in the balls? Collateral damage I guess; radiation still showing damage years down the road, old wounds reopened; pick your metaphor kids.
Until next time, thanks for reading kids.
Jeremy

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