another kind of me

saturday, january 10, 1998, 00:37 a little under 12 hours and i will be on the road back to school. and I've got this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I really hate that. I don't know what it's doing in there. I don't know what I'm nervous or uneasy about. I just know that it's sitting in there. My friends? No, they're already mostly gone. The family? Perhaps, but I don't think so. It really is just knowing that the vacation is over. That I'm going back to my other life. The hectic one. The one where I'm really not allowed to sleep until 11am every morning, yet am still expected to go to bed at 4. The one where instead of being able to sit back and take a couple of hours to read through a magazine, I have to take those hours in a meeting, or in the lab, or working on something explicitely not for myself. It's going back to an all too familiar lifestle. No. I'm really not complaining. Those late nights, those meetings, that work, the hectic schedules, the bleary eyes, the endless commitments. I love them all. They are who I am. This is just a break from me. It's probably scared me to home as well. Being at home means that I have too much time to myself to think about what is going on in my life, and where my life is going. Being at home means that I don't have the other people across the hall. I don't have the distractions. I am my own distraction here, and that means that I can get this little brain of mine into quite a tangle. Far better for me to be so busy that I can hardly hear myself think, let about ponder. Besides, isn't that what procrastination is for? There is what is known as too much of a good thing. up one | mail | mon | tue | wed | fri