Crushed
I finally got this stupid site redesigned. What the hell am I doing with my life. But I guess, deep down inside, I'd rather not have the answer. There is a stupid package that I don't want sitting in my apartment complex's office, and I really don't want to pick it up--it's from a stupid book club. I always forget to tell them not to send me this month's selection, and I always forget to cancel my membership, and I keep hoping that if I ignore it, it will just go away, and I realize that I am just one step closer to completely losing my mind. No, I know, I'm just not getting enough exercise. I'm just cranky, I guess. Maybe I need a nap. But anyway, today is Mardi Gras, and, no, I'm not having any fun, at least, I'm not doing anything that normal people would ever consider fun, and I'm pondering whether I should go to church tomorrow or not. I'd hate not to go just because I'm lazy. Still, I really haven't figured out this crisis of faith thing, and I'm probably not going to hurry it. I know that there's something worthwhile in religion, it's just that I also know that there's a lot of bullsh-t too, and some types of "religious" people just make me sick to my stomach. Although Ash Wednesday is always good, Catholic or not. It's good to realize that you are going to die someday. Makes you put everything into perspective. In any case, I think I've finally accepted my Fate. Like my friend Ben says, you can't escape your destiny. Although he was talking about something happier which never materialized. Oh well. It is rather disconcerting. I once played with a Ouija board and it told me to "Fight Fate." I don't know how I feel about failing a disembodied spirit. Will he seek vengeance? In a way, I feel kind of free, though. All my vainglorious hopes have evaporated, and the only thing left to me is this long haul, also known as med school. It's not a matter of wanting it or not wanting it anymore. This is all I've got. Which is sad, except I've dealt with this before. There's nothing new left to ponder. I've gotten used to disappointment. But just when you think you've got nothing to lose, something else always gives way. I hate the fact that I'm such a pessimist. But maybe I've finally crushed my tendency to vainglory. I feel like I'm completely in the middle of things, between contentment and excruciating agony, and it's only a matter of time before I find out if I'm sitting on a stable island, or if I'm in the middle of a catastrophe (mathematically speaking). I mean, thankfully, this isn't the worst I've ever felt. It's certainly not the best either, but I can deal with it. I really hate the calm before the storm. I can always feel it before the sh-t starts to fly. This is the sort of thing that I wish I was always wrong about. Maybe I'm just incredibly paranoid.
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