I think I’m going to apply for a seat in the Battle Royale Survival Program for the fall of next year. I’m waiting for some of my transcripts to go through, and then I’ll know more. I wrote over a month ago about my growing apathy toward school. Although I know that I will work hard through the last semester of my undergraduate program, it seems like I’m working simply because I know, in my mind, that I have no other choice. Yes, I’m getting through it. Yes, I’m making it work. Yes, I’m trying here. But, no, I don’t really care about it. I don’t have a passion for any particular field, topic, project, or career. Many people want me to be, but I simply am not. Should I pick a career and pretend to be excited about it to make my family happy? I don’t like the idea, but I don’t want them to feel like they raised a lazy failure. I’m still hopeful that in time, once I’ve established some sort of a route toward an end, I’ll develop the passion for whatever I end up doing. However, I’ll admit that once I find that route to an end, I’ll develop the passion to reach that end. The end… At this point, my greatest desire is simply to be done with the daily monotony of class work, homework, and late nights studying. I’ve sent applications to a few masters programs in the fields of molecular biology, microbiology, and biomedical engineering. I’ll hear back in a few months.
Lately I’ve been spending time working and studying. I’ve been studying for the GRE (Graduate Record Examination) which I plan to take next Thursday. The score I get will determine which (if any) graduate programs I will get accepted to. Work wise, I decided to put in some hours over Christmas break at the same place I worked last summer. I don’t make a lot of money doing it, but it was a quick and easy job. It doesn’t require any programming either; that makes me happy. I’m serving cold tacos and burned enchiladas at an upscale Mexican taqueria in the Florida mall. Working with food is not very annoying; working with customers is. However, irate, parsimonious, or implacable my customers are, they’re not as frustrating as some of the employees. I consider myself to be painfully easygoing, especially at work. When I go, I try my best to do what I’m told. I don’t have any special point to make, and I don’t have any particular reason to be there. I just go to fill time, make some money, and try to get through the days. Still, some people let their seemingly newfangled supremacy of seniority or a trivial supervising status flow through their nostrils at whoever will respond to it and the despicable behavior it instills in those who consider themselves to be the center of the paraverse. I don’t really care when people are full of themselves. I don’t really care when people cause problems simply so they can feel more important. I don’t even care when people look me in the eye and talk down to me with words and voices that melodically chant how much better they think they are than me. It just makes me sad; somehow it seems like the more people try to feel good about themselves by bolstering their position over others, the more worthless they appear. One of the things that working at the restaurant this last month has taught me is that it’s easy to have one little circle of people completely encapsulate your world; you’ve just got to do your best to get things done while remaining humble and keeping your head above the water to maintain perspective on your life before it’s too late.
I don’t have anything too profound to say, not yet anyway. I may write some other time, or this may be the last entry onto this stupid page (talk about trivial and meaningless). I still feel a responsibility to write every once and a while, and this is me fulfilling that inconvenient but glorious and inexplicable desire to document my thoughts through the years where my life will change the most. Cheers.
