my own personal waterloo.

I can't sleep. What a surprise. I'm lingering in the early hours of the morning before my final exam of the semester. My alarm clock is blinking 10:40 at me, which is wrong, because I haven't bothered to reset it since the power went out last. I have (mostly clean) clothes strewn about the floor that I haven't picked up and sorted yet from Thanksgiving break. It seems almost pointless to do anything about them now; they'll just end up stuffed in a bag for home on Friday.

Weird. I don't want this semester to end. I don't want to go home. If I could just opt out of Winter Break and stay cuddled up in my bed in Atlanta for a month, I would. Even if no one else was around. I could read and write all day. I miss being able to do that regularly. I haven't written a word since November, and I haven't touched my journal since before then. It's so strange developing a personality away from an object that seems to have been one of my defining characteristics for so long. It brings up some interesting questions as to why that is, but I'm not sure that's a question I want to answer. Maybe it was a security thing, something to keep myself hidden away in at one point that I really have no need for anymore.

But having to go home for the break brings up all my old awkwardness and irritates those long-held insecurities that I don't really fit in. I don't really want to be reminded of high school; I left it behind for a reason. And it doesn't necessarily help that those who I once considered close friends seem to have all but forgotten me. While I say it doesn't really bother me, at some unconscious level it does.

But then again, maybe the break will be a good thing. It's a chance to alleviate tension, for one thing. There's been a lot of it building up for a while now that I think would be good to get away from. It's like a balloon ready to pop. If I leave it alone for long enough, perhaps it will deflate on its own. Plus, some people I'd lost touch with recently resurfaced for a get-together, so maybe that will be a good thing. We'll see; I remain wary.

I think I have grown into this dislike of breaks since coming to college. For me, Oglethorpe contains my second family; I don't like being away from them for so long, especially when I feel like the only thing waiting for me at home is loneliness and a long marathon of my favorite Disney movies. Thinking positively though, alone time is always a necessity, and who doesn't love Disney movies?

Perhaps this break could be spent productively, minimizing all the clutter (literally and figuratively) in my life and getting it organized. I could learn to be less over-analytical, a nasty habit that often sends me spiralling violently back into those somewhat comfortable high school girl insecurities. I could finally finish the books I've been reading in short spurts for the past few months. I could get back into the habit of writing regularly; I could actually finish something for once instead of starting something and leaving it. I could learn to sew - that skill always comes in handy.

But I guess I'm really just anxious for the break to be over, if I'm going to be honest. Next semester promises to be full of both Shakespeare and Jane Austen with my two favorite professors. Being employed as a Writing Center Tutor again is also exciting; it's so nice to get paid for a job I love. Also, next semester is when I commence my search for an internship - wish me luck in that respect, it's rather daunting. Theatre-wise, once the semester starts up, I jump right in to what I think will be a very challenging but very rewarding role in Agnes of God, and I'm collaborating on a production of The Vagina Monologues to go up in March.

Perhaps I should just focus on the present. My ambition and excitement for the future won't help the issues I'm facing at the moment. I should focus on getting through this last exam tomorrow afternoon and keeping all the conflicting philosophies of Aristotle and Hobbes and Locke and Rousseau and St. Augustine in order.

Oh well, this is what I get for going to a liberal arts school. Silly me.