There are heavy clouds looming outside my bedroom windows. Even through flowered curtains, it is clear that a day spent inside could have potential, both positive and negative. Although, I have managed to convince myself of this nearly every day this week, and I fear that it may have become unhealthy. Days have been spent going to work, coming home, and occasionally hanging out with friends in between. Just looking at that phrase "going to work" bores me from its active "going" beginning to its bitter "work" end. Something must be done to fix this, or I'm afraid I could become increasingly comfortable with my current line of work, its arrogant offering of coworkers, and my gray cloud life in this dead-end town.
No one really teaches you motivation in college. If found successful, universities could likely charge double the cost of an average undergraduate course. But would everyone show up?
Perhaps college is just another proverbial filter, sifting through apathy in hopes of finding golden ambition, in which the worthy prove themselves and those of us who wait tables throughout college are simply meant to wait tables throughout life.
Perhaps these are excuses from a woman who is too hard on herself and feels too beaten down to drive on. I will think that very thing, on occasion. But there has always been some glimmering element of hope in the very back of my mind, foolish and naive as it may sound. I think to lose that would be even more foolish than to hold onto it. I might need it someday, when I'm truly down and out. I will think back to days such as today and think, "God, woman. You didn't know how lucky you had it."
