It's the beginning of Easter Break and I officially have nothing to do with myself. Strange. I'm always so busy, always looking to travel. But somehow, this time, I just didn't take the initiative to actually do anything. I could have gone home, but for some reason, I didn't. I really can't explain any of it. All I know at this point is that I find myself with 12 days of nothingness on this campus. As they say, idle hands are the devil's playthings.
I have many applications to fill out. It's like the world is laughing at me. "Ha, Valerie, you thought you were done with applications when you finished your university ones! Ha ha, you were so wrong, fill out 12 other forms now! Decide the rest of your life now! No pressure!". I feel like I am, in reality, simply filling out applications for adulthood. Like I'm filling out a list and trying to check off boxes to make sure I don't end up a homeless person after this place.
To-do list:
Choose a university.
Earn a regular salary.
Work on people skills.
Speak three languages.
Establish lifelong friendships.
Maintain a normal and mature love life.
Rent a Parisian apartment.
Find another (hopefully free) apartment on the other side of the world.
On the plus side, I've finished everything. All of my IAs, everything is in. It's anti-climactic. No one ran over and popped open some champagne for me and said "Congratulations, you managed not to give yourself a stroke while trying to pass the IB!". Nope. Just handed in some papers and moved on with life.
I think I am happy. I want to hold onto this feeling forever. It's much easier to have faith in everything, in destiny or whatever you'd like to call it, when my pillow still smells like he has just rolled out of bed, when I keep finding his clothes all over my room, when I am smoking his cigarettes, when I am still smiling and laughing about conversations we had. These are all clear, concrete things. It is just like when I came back from Uruguay. My head was so empty, my desires so obvious and easy. I want it to stay this way.
As I've pointed out before, idle hands are the devil's playthings. And although I have had fun succumbing to dancing with the devil before, I don't really feel like letting my hands be playthings for Satan any time soon.
Wow, what a strange metaphor. And what a strange week I have to look forward to. And what a strange life.
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