Here’s what I should be doing right now.
3) Preparing for H.S. drumline competition week.
4) Meeting with one of my professors.
5) Making a T-Shirt order for the H.S. kids.
6) Posting a response in an online class forum.
But these things take energy, of which I have none. Instead I’ve found myself hiding away in a remote corner of this campus that I did not know existed until today, drinking coffee, and waiting for May of 2016.
..and now I’m out of coffee.
Once upon a time I started writing a novel. I would say on a weekly basis I think about that novel 12-15 times. I’m not sure I’ll ever finish it because it serves the stereotype far better to be the person that has “started” or “working on” a novel, and not the person who has finished one. One of these days I’ll need to hunker down and get to work on it, assuming it is not the worst thing ever. I’ve not read it or looked at it in two years or so, so there is a better than average chance that it is total rubbish. Nevertheless, i’m still interested.
I think I’m near the art rooms. It smells like paint and parent’s basements where I’m sitting. Also there are a tremendous amount of what I assume to be art projects hanging from the ceiling. There is the obligatory “massive painting of random colors that means something profound and retails for $4500” to my right. Needless to say, I don’t think I get art. I dig music, so that gives me partial credit, but I cant call myself an art lover. There is a side of me that thinks it would be a good idea to put Ewan to work making expensive art. His drawings on the refrigerator very closely resemble some of the paintings lining the hallways surrounding me. I’ll sign his name at the bottom and slap an outlandish price tag on it. Then we’re drinking Pina Coladas on the beach.
New life plan. Check.
There is a girl on a phone interview sitting a little ways from me. If I never hear the term “learning opportunity” again, I would be ok with that. Based on this phone interview, she will not get this job. She doesnt know how to speak with confidence, and, without even hearing the questions they are giving her, I can tell she’s giving the wrong answers. Poor girl. A product of growing up in a texting world. These high school and college kids never learned how to actually speak. They can text faster than I can think, but I’ll be damned if they can have an intelligent conversation with another human being.
Seriously. When we need to have a meeting with our High School kids for band, they have no idea how to contribute. They stare at you and wait for you to be done talking. Then around an hour later, they will text you with responses. I’m not joking. I have been texted by my kids at 11pm with some profound life question. I’ll ignore the text and try to talk to them the next morning about it, and it is like talking to a split personality. They mumble, dont make eye contact, etc. Sad times. Texting = no people skills.
Rant over, old man hat off.
Also. There are a handful of people reading this blog from South America. I’m not sure how they arrived here, but they seem to be coming back. To my neighbors to the south, Hola!