Lots of Thoughts

Spring break was a fantastic escape from everything, but now that I'm in my second week back, I just can't get back into things. I have lots and lots of hope that next semester will be super awesome because my advisor essentially guaranteed that he'd let me into two design classes. But this semester? It can end now, that would be lovely. This weekend I went home, largely because my only option on St. Patrick's day was a Texas Cowboy church party that I'd been half-heartedly invited to by the few friends who weren't busy. I appreciated the gesture, sure, but I'm not about to hang out with the "praise Jesus!" crowd when I should be embracing my Irish heritage. I feel like I'm hiding when I'm with that group, since only my one close friend who is part of that wouldn't disown me for swearing or admitting that I don't share their religious views.

It's been said to me that all the crappy events that happened at the beginning set a tone for the whole semester, and I guess I believe that that's true. Even though said bad things specifically have no real hold on my life anymore, as I've overcome them, there's still this sense of disillusionment about life that I just don't like. I probably did spend a lot of time in this happy little bubble of how I thought life and people were essentially good, and I hadn't even realized that until I suddenly didn't think that way anymore. Sometimes I still am genuinely happy, but otherwise there's a lot of that "bleh" feeling.

I've got plenty of good things this last half-semester, and I really should just stay focused on that. I don't understand how that's been difficult. I actually have time to go to the clubs that I had to skip for two whole months. I'm not obligated to work on any shows, because the timing didn't work out. Since the weather's so great, I've been able to get a walk into my schedule nearly every day, and that seems to improve my sanity somehow. I've got a month and a half left; my last final is April 30th. I can get through these boring classes with their druggy airheaded people, and everything will be okay again next semester. I'm looking forward to the day when my pothead suitemate moves out, because I know I'll still be here then. I'm staying on campus for a few extra days, because of my orientation training. But somehow, despite all of that, all I want to do is make art and not write anything related to my lit class, because that professor dislikes me solely because I'm not a Writing, Literature, and Publishing major like the rest of the class.

I've caught myself thinking, "I miss the way things used to be," but I'm not even sure anymore if that refers to last semester, or before I was even in college.