wasting my time

It is late, therefore I am tired, therefore I am crabby, therefore I write this poem, which despite my cynical state of mind, ends on a hopeful note:

______

I'm wasting my time.
…I'll never be called lazy.
I'm burning it up.
…I burn the candle at both ends.
I'm throwing it to the wind.
…Running too fast to feel the wind in my hair.
I'm burying it in the mud.
…Digging myself deeper, I feel the weight of everything above me.

I chase after knowledge
That I'll soon forget
Because I don't stop
To ponder and rest
Before I must move on
To asking "What next?"
I'll be old before mature
If I don't stop and reflect.

Won't waste my talents–
I'm trying them all.
Can't waste my tuition–
I take a full load.
There's so much to learn,
I just have to get involved.
When I'm at an intersection
I take every road.

I'm wasting my time.
…There is a time for everything.
I'm burning it up.
…A season for everything under the burning sun.
I'm throwing it to the wind.
…So why am I chasing after the wind,
I'm burying it in the mud.
…when all that is good and true is as old and steadfast as mud?

____

So what have I been wasting my time with? All good things; nothing to complain about. Here's the past two days:

Friday– hit the snooze button. Alarm clock decides to be faulty and just not ring again. But I wake up anyway, although not on time to finish mi narración para la clase de español. So I go to Theology, then finish my narration for the class of Spanish, then go to Spanish, then eat some lunch, then cross cultural psychology, then history. Next I run errands to the offices of several professors. I get in contact with my cooperating teacher who I will be teacher aiding with starting next week. I read two chapters of a book just for fun. Then I realize that my reading time is done, and I go to supper, where I meet my cousins, and we have a pleasant time. Next, Trollstock. This is just plain fun, and I am still with my cousins, and so I have someone to sway to the music with. The band that plays at the end of the night is called Scatteredtrees, and they are amazing. I actually used to be in a band with the bass player and the drummer (Christian Life High School Pep Band). Now they are rock stars, as I always knew they would be. I buy their album and have them sign it, as we catch up on lives that share a piece of past. The rhymes they sing sink into me and I return to my desk to write my own. When I've written it all out, I crash up to my bed like a sluggish monkey.

Saturday- no snooze button to push, praise God for Saturdays. I complete this week's assigned cleaning duties while taking a shower. Finally dressed, fed, and ready for the day, I realize that a trip to the thrift store is in order, as another pair of my pants has sprung a leak in the left knee, and as much as I want to be the grungy girl, I don't want to be the grungy girl. After a completely unsuccesful trip to the thrift store, where everything that looks good is small, and everything my size is ugly, I return to campus, where I eat lunch with a group of friends who are my acquaintances. Then it is off to the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. "Gloria, if you put on black and white in five minutes you can see a show for free." And so she does, and we are off. First time downtown this semester, and first time I've ever driven there. Hardly harder than Rockford, which is hardly harder than Freeport, which is hardly harder than German Valley, which is no harder than Borchers Road when they've just graded (but now it's paved). No problem, even in the parking garage. We usher for the show, allowing us free seats on the upper balcony, which are still good seats, with the jut stage right below us. They tell the story of Cembeline with great skill. A series of Lori's intriguing questions gets us through the stop and go traffic filling the roads to Trinity. The Matthew West concert is just starting when we get back, so I go to that, and he sings words that remind me of truths I should never forget. Eat supper, watch a little of the movie that's on (because it's Princess Bride), talk on the phone, write a blog.

So far this weekend, I've just done fun things, and good fun at that. I haven't been wasting my time. But I haven't gotten any of the things that I need to get done done, which is what's really bugging me. There's responsibilities, and then there's opportunities, and then there's rest. Scared of the responsibilities, I take every opportunity, except for the rare opportunity to rest. Somehow I still manage to complete all my responsibilities, though not to the best of my ability. That is what I mean by wasting time. So here is this writing, an opportunity to rest the burden of the procrastinated responsibilities that try my abilities and test my agility. For me, this is a piece of peace.