College & mundane days

I stated on a couple of social media sites that I’m probably going to start writing more often…perhaps even every day. I’d be delighted if you followed along, but if you don’t that’s fine too. This is mostly for my mental health. Some posts will be inspiring. Some won’t. So follow along if you’d like, but try not to be too critical.

I’m sitting in one of the coffee shops on campus as I write this and I just spotted one of my professors from freshman year. 5 years have passed and he’s still wearing Crocs. (Do we need to plan an intervention?) He has this signature gait. I could spot him from a mile away. He’s long since forgotten what I look like, so there’s no wave of recognition or small talk. As I look around the room and out the window at the students crowded around tables working on their laptops, I can’t help but notice that there’s a good chance I’m the oldest student in here. I feel very out of place these days. Many of my close friends have graduated and moved on. I feel a lot of camaraderie with my coworkers and professors. We’re all on a first name basis by now.

There are days when I really love being a student and have a gratefulness for this experience, but recently I’ve been in a major funk. I’m either depressed, have a case of senioritis on steroids, or both. I’m not sure what’s up. I care deeply about many things, but school isn’t something at the top of my list right now. It’s out of character for me. It’s troubling. I’m doing what I can to talk to the right people and get all the support available to me, but frankly, this just sucks. I met with my counselor this afternoon and she was nothing but supportive, so hopefully with her help, I’ll be able to climb out of this rut.

Additionally, thirty minutes before leaving for work today, my cat looked at me with those loving eyes before popping a squat and pooping all over my work clothes. Why? I have not been able to discern his reason for doing so, but I feel like it’s a metaphor for something.

Not every day, week, or month is great.

Sometimes you go through the motions. Sometimes existence feels pointless. Sometimes your pet poops on your clothes.

In seasons like these, I’m really just grateful if I wake up on time and do one or two productive things with my day. Tonight after I finish with a few obligations I’m going to escape into “How to Get Away with Murder” and drink tea instead of wine. Annalise is trying to get sober right now and I should hold off on the alcohol until I figure out what’s going on with my motivation and sleep schedule.

Tomorrow I’ll set six alarms, hopefully wake up at a decent hour, and try again.