Sunday Sermon

Finals have arrived.

I am taking my final finals beginning tomorrow. By Wednesday, it will all be over but the crying. I have suckled at the academic teat of UW for long enough - I am to be weaned.

I am not walking in the ceremony, but still I feel the urge to mark the occasion somehow...

Drunken debacle? Not an option - too broke for that much booze.

Long hike in the Snowies? Bad knee.

Four state killing spree? Too cliche.

Kite flying with friends? Unlikely, given the weather forecast.

A weekend of internet pr0n? Too much like every other weekend.

Hours of headphoned guitar playing? Probably, but that's hardly celebratory.

So what can I do to mark this milestone in my life? I think part of the problem here is that it doesn't feel like much of an accomplishment. It wasn't all that hard... I know, you're not supposed to say that, but it wasn't. Getting through the Patrol Academy was much worse, with all the running and the push-ups and the shouting sergeants. This experience had its difficult moments, but in retrospect I have had much worse times in my life, and I fear that bad times are ahead as well. Perhaps it is the uncertainty of the future that undermines my attempts at carousal...

Because I am on the waiting list for Baylor, I find myself facing life for a time as a non-student. Being a non-student also means losing my cushy student job, so I must find work to fill my wallet and time until I can be admitted. I recall the soul-deep sickness that accompanies life in the cubicles, and I dread contracting that disease again. I am not suited to the life of a wageslave, and my already considerable ire grows exponentially when I am in the presence of "company men." I must seek out employment that has the proper mix of reasonable remuneration and liberal hippy values. No easy task; there is little market for outrage as a profession these days.

I am not alone in this; three other denizens of Flock Hall are graduates as well, and I have heard no concrete plans for any of them either. We are all in a limbo realm, and there seems to be no guarantee that it will end soon - some of the Flocksters who graduated last year are still walking the ether...

This isn't so much a sermon as it is a prayer request. Pray for those who are neither student nor master, for theirs is a prickly passage.

I suppose I could use the time between jobs to meditate more, work on my anger issues, get some exercise, spend more time with Ajax, expand my creative writing portfolio...

Nah, I'll probably just play guitar.

Go in Peace.

7 comments:

Modig_Bjorn said...

Linus,

For what it's worth... I understand the limbo that you and other members of the Flock are in. I went through three months of it in 2004. I wish nothing but the best for all of you.

However, I must say that the longer you and the rest of the Flock continue to reside in Laramie, the longer Tara and I are assured of quality people to hang out with.

Yes, that was a compliment, and no, I will not have sex with you! Tag on the other hand...

His Sinfulness said...

Tag and the Black Pope... that's hawt.

Sara said...

I tried to find a hope-filled bible passage for you, but I gave up after about three minutes. I'm not much of a Bible person. I feel your pain. I have lived in the limbo and have come out the other side. I even have business cards now. This too shall pass...

Mark Travis said...

I had an office job once. I got so good at the tasks that they put forth for me to do that I ended up asking for more things to do. And then eventually they flat out told me that I was working too hard... and that was an interesting day for me. The job got really really really boring after that.

His Sinfulness said...

I've had a "real job" (a couple, actually), owned two houses, and even had business cards. That life is what I dread most...

Rachel said...

Three months? THREE MONTHS? That's it? I floundered far more spectacularly than that, and my year of sorrow has been a short stint in limbo land. Whole decades have been lost by the truly wayward among our generation. It is a midlife crisis for the young, a right of passage, a new age shadow of the valley of death. Some will pass through many times.

The High Inquisitor gives her blessing to the those weary of the real world.

Clayton said...

I supped at the teat of acadamia once. She said I would have to pay her back with interest later.

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