It's time to bust out the giant novelty scissors, entry 1 is already underway and there just may be more to follow.
As I type, I'm watching my coworker at the library check out scenes from Grand Theft Auto IV on youtube. He's sitting way too close to the screen with his headphones on, and seems to be oblivious to patrons approaching the desk. This, in turn, causes the patrons to get understandably flustered, and come over to my desk to check out instead. I wonder what would happen if we both buried our heads in our computers. Patrons would walk up, see that we were "busy," and leave us alone. But ahh, that pesky little trait called the Protestant Work Ethic always gets the best of me.
It's the same characteristic that keeps that anxious tick in my heart racing like a hummingbird's wings when I have an important test or project looming overhead. It holds me prisoner at my desk when the joyous sounds of children at play filter through my window on a beautiful spring day. It sounds like an enemy, and it probably is. Despite having some semi-significant "accomplishments" to show for it (like graduating summa cum laude, and the bevy of scholarships I've received throughout my university daze), I've been wearing this academic burdon on my shoulders for four straight years, and it seems like four years too many. Obviously these sentiments have put any pursuit of higher education on hold indefinitely. And while it's quite evident that I could potentially have "the stuff" to make it in grad school, it's hard to imagine not killing myself in the process.
What could be more proof of this compulsion than this initial blog post itself? When I started writing, there was little more intent than to say "Hey, this is my blog, check it out ya'll." And now here I am, three paragraphs later, still trying to put a cap on this introduction. Something tells me I should give up now.
