Structure, it seems, is quite important.
And yes, I'm doing my best to begin my posts with inane, obvious sentences. It's a fun thing to do.
And yes, that was an inane sentence. Also, it was obvious.
This is not going well. Perhaps I'd best get to the point.
So during this past semester, my life was all structure. What with 22 hours of class per week, 9 hours of work, and the inability to say No when it came to theatre, I had few hours to call my own. At the beginning of the semester, especially, I was freaking out, rather, because I didn't know if I could handle all the work. Apparently I could, because I did. By the end of the semester, I wasn't exactly Reveling in the responsibility, but I survived.
Towards the end of the semester, things got really, really rough, because all sorts of things, like projects and papers, began to Throng upon me. But eventually, the March of Time marched me right through Finals week, and I found myself stranded on the desert island of Summer.
(This, dear readers, is where the story gets interesting.)
So now, I find myself missing the structure of the semester. I have nothing happening, except work, which doesn't exactly count because there's nothing happening down there. So it seems that what my grandfather said in his book Teaching For a Change was true: people are in love with boundaries, and without them, they're unhappy.
I mean, I'm not unhappy. I am loving the whole Not Doing Stuff thing. I'm loving sleeping in.
But I'm thinking that by the end of the summer, I'm going to be pretty tired of Not Having Structure.
Long live structure!