The picture is old. I have had WAY too much time to think and do nothing for the past two weeks or so - I finished school in May after going at it for solid 19 years, I had a month to reflect on my life (the past) and write them in complete details for strangers at med schools to read, and then I was off exploring the world. Even when I was in India being all alone most evenings for almost three months, my thoughts were focused on the day. Spending six-ish hours in a hospital in Nadiad can give you a lot to reflect on each day (unless you were born and raised there, still live there, and you pass the matter for business-as-usual).
Anyway, so all this six months didn't, thankfully, leave me the time to think about the future. I thought about today, the good the bad the ugly, but neither the past nor the future.
But after having nothing to do for the past couple of weeks except cook, read, do gardening, decorate my room, and deal with all the house-related-chores, I can't help but think about the mistakes of the past (didn't have enough fun) and the horrors of tomorrow (suburban housewife stuck with a man who doesn't dance). I've been spending days freaking out that some stranger will read about my life on a paper (narrated very poorly by yours truly) and judge that I'm not fit to be a doctor AND when I don't think about that, about the idea that I'm getting old and will never find a great... dance partner to spend my life with (I miss decent swing dancing).
BUT today, I was driving around (driving always makes me think clearer) in a car that has broken down way too frequently and that now smells like crap (cigarettes) and I couldn't help but laugh at the entire situation. (I have to admit, sometimes the words "Stop Panicking" delivered by someone you rarely talk to really help - sort of like when Cher slaps Nicholas Cage in Moonlight and says "Snap out of it!") I mean, here I am, twenty-something years old, worried about things in life that'll hardly matter if I die of a car accident in six months (unlike anything else at this age). The only thing that'll matter is whether I did something awesome today or whether I spent the last six months of my life moping around (I'm not predicting my death - this is all hypothetical)
Anyway, so I'm going to have a little dance party by myself here (thank you, 8tracks.com) and then go to bed happy that I've spent this year living in three different countries, leaving a bit of food for thought everywhere, and learning important lessons like how to drive a manual gear car on the left side of the road.
Here's a question - will we, the college graduates of this generation, ever stop thinking about "a year" being August - May (June and July being other-worldly) and get on board with the january-december idea?
vs
