Today’s words: Fund, Top, Exultant, Mundane
Word count: 384
Completion time: 19 minutes
Summary: If you haven’t figured your life out when you’re ‘supposed’ to...who cares? Live life on your own terms.
--
So, I’m lying here on the top bunk, one semi-bare leg poking through the wooden bars and my eyes are closed, imagining a future where, “What do you want to do with your life?” isn’t a phrase that exists. Nor does, “What do you want to be when you’re older?” “What university are you going to?” “What is your dream for the future?”
I inhaled, squeezed my eyes together tighter, and exhaled through my mouth. My life was mundane, fruitless, a dead-end...well, that’s what my relatives seemed to think.
“So, Emily,” my aunt’s high-pitched, whiney voice would begin, “what career would you like? You must be sick of that dull nine to five by now.”
“Oh, I dunno,” I beamed, exultant and carefree, “maybe one that involves me slapping that smug look off your face every time you decide that your voice is worthy of the same air that I breathe. You think someone would fund me for that? Cause I would gladly do that ‘til the day I die.”
Okay, I didn’t really say that; instead, I smiled sweetly, said, “it’s not so bad,” and walked away.
I turned my body so that I was on my right side and drew my legs up to my torso. I had just turned eighteen years old and already my life was deemed pointless unless I had some big goal in mind. I wasn’t a football player, or a contestant on Deal or No Deal who aimed for a certain amount of cash, I was an eighteen year old girl who had the rest of her life to decide what did and didn’t suit her.
Why should anyone care that my life wasn’t very exciting right now? Why should my parents look concerned when I say that I might give university a miss? Why am I made to feel guilty for not having my life planned out like a complex flow-chart?
What if I liked the way that my life was now? My job wasn’t very exciting, but I loved my co-workers, the money wasn’t bad, and I painted as a hobby...most importantly, I felt happy.
My eyes fixed themselves on a few university prospectuses that my parents had gotten for me, and I closed my eyes again.
Just...let me decide what’s important for me, okay?
Showing posts with label university. Show all posts
Showing posts with label university. Show all posts
Saturday, 22 February 2014
Tuesday, 13 August 2013
#25 - Chill Out or Burn Out
Today’s words: Reserve, Inform, Learned, Mellow
Word count: 568
Summary: Never over-work yourself when you study, it bad for your health
I couldn’t avert my eyes from the lecturer at the front of the room; it was like I was worried that if I dared to look away for a few seconds, I would miss something vital that could only be heard if I maintained eye-contact. My eyes tracked that lecturer like a laser-beam, pin-pointing what she was going to do next. It was just me and her playing a game of table tennis back and forth back and forth.
“And just as a reminder...”
What was she reminding us about? What had I forgotten??
“...I would like to inform all of you that your end-of-term essays are due on the twenty-fifth of May; don’t leave them until the last week.”
Shit...
“That’s all.”
The once-quiet lecture hall had become overwhelmed with the noise of students eager to flee the room.
The twenty-fifth of May...that was just under two months away and I had barely started researching the first of three essays. I hadn’t even chosen a question for one of them yet! I wondered how everyone else appeared to be so carefree; why I appeared to be the only one panicking.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll reserve a space in the First club for you.” Doug always tried to make me feel better, even though it didn’t tend to help. “You’ve never gotten below a First, apart from that one time you were 2% away last--”
“We don’t talk about that.”
“You know what I’ve learned since I started getting better grades?”
“What?” My voice trailed up from the ground where I was zipping up my backpack.
“You need to work hard...”
No shit.
“...But you also need to mellow out once in a while. You can’t overwork your brain, it’s really bad for you.”
“I’m getting the grades, that’s all I care about.”
Doug grabbed my shoulders and sat me back down as I was about to make my way to the door.
“What are you--!”
“Seriously, listen to me.” He put his hands on either side of my desk and looked down at me seriously. “You find it hard to sleep, especially during the essay period, right? You can’t concentrate for a while when you study, and you make careless mistakes that you never fail to bring up when I ask how the essays are going, yeah?”
I sighed.
“It’s not good for you, you’re sacrificing your mental health.”
“...You’re saying I’m mental?”
He flicked my forehead.
“Hey!”
“I’m saying that you need to chill out before you burn out. Take regular breaks, and don’t be this stressed two whole months before the deadline. Get it?”
I looked at my folder on the desk that was plastered with sticky notes between the pages and filled to the brim with notes, worksheets, and seminar exercises.
“You’ll raise your grade and you’ll be in a better mental state, you’ll be able to study a lot better if you take time out to rest.”
I intentionally kept silent for several seconds before speaking up. “If this doesn’t work...”
“Then I’ll walk into Cassie’s room naked, rose between my teeth, and confess my undying love.”
“Alright,” I said through a smile.
“Good. Now,” he motioned for me to stand up, “let’s put our stuff down and go for a drink. That girl you like is probably there already.”
“Whatever, I just think she’s nice.”
“Sure,” he winked, “’nice’."
Word count: 568
Summary: Never over-work yourself when you study, it bad for your health
I couldn’t avert my eyes from the lecturer at the front of the room; it was like I was worried that if I dared to look away for a few seconds, I would miss something vital that could only be heard if I maintained eye-contact. My eyes tracked that lecturer like a laser-beam, pin-pointing what she was going to do next. It was just me and her playing a game of table tennis back and forth back and forth.
“And just as a reminder...”
What was she reminding us about? What had I forgotten??
“...I would like to inform all of you that your end-of-term essays are due on the twenty-fifth of May; don’t leave them until the last week.”
Shit...
“That’s all.”
The once-quiet lecture hall had become overwhelmed with the noise of students eager to flee the room.
The twenty-fifth of May...that was just under two months away and I had barely started researching the first of three essays. I hadn’t even chosen a question for one of them yet! I wondered how everyone else appeared to be so carefree; why I appeared to be the only one panicking.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll reserve a space in the First club for you.” Doug always tried to make me feel better, even though it didn’t tend to help. “You’ve never gotten below a First, apart from that one time you were 2% away last--”
“We don’t talk about that.”
“You know what I’ve learned since I started getting better grades?”
“What?” My voice trailed up from the ground where I was zipping up my backpack.
“You need to work hard...”
No shit.
“...But you also need to mellow out once in a while. You can’t overwork your brain, it’s really bad for you.”
“I’m getting the grades, that’s all I care about.”
Doug grabbed my shoulders and sat me back down as I was about to make my way to the door.
“What are you--!”
“Seriously, listen to me.” He put his hands on either side of my desk and looked down at me seriously. “You find it hard to sleep, especially during the essay period, right? You can’t concentrate for a while when you study, and you make careless mistakes that you never fail to bring up when I ask how the essays are going, yeah?”
I sighed.
“It’s not good for you, you’re sacrificing your mental health.”
“...You’re saying I’m mental?”
He flicked my forehead.
“Hey!”
“I’m saying that you need to chill out before you burn out. Take regular breaks, and don’t be this stressed two whole months before the deadline. Get it?”
I looked at my folder on the desk that was plastered with sticky notes between the pages and filled to the brim with notes, worksheets, and seminar exercises.
“You’ll raise your grade and you’ll be in a better mental state, you’ll be able to study a lot better if you take time out to rest.”
I intentionally kept silent for several seconds before speaking up. “If this doesn’t work...”
“Then I’ll walk into Cassie’s room naked, rose between my teeth, and confess my undying love.”
“Alright,” I said through a smile.
“Good. Now,” he motioned for me to stand up, “let’s put our stuff down and go for a drink. That girl you like is probably there already.”
“Whatever, I just think she’s nice.”
“Sure,” he winked, “’nice’."
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