In the Summertime

I am so bored! For the first time in a long time I have nothing to do. Nothing! (you may be able to sense my frustration in the frequent use of italics and exclaimation marks here.) And I think my brain is slowly relaxing, deciding not to bother to think anymore. I know that you who are working will be cursing me at this moment for having a life of sleep-ins and little demand - but I'm not loving it. First of all, it would be great if I had nothing to do and lots of money, but unless I find an incredibly rich husband sometime soon, that's not going to happen. The problem with not studying/working is that you don't look forward to the days where you can sleep in; that day is every day. In fact the only reason I am sleeping in is because I have nothing to get up for - it makes the day go faster. The weather is also terrible at the moment, I would at least find some solace in my spare time if I could be sunning myself on the deck.
So let's all cry for me as you sit at your desks.
If anyone would like to suggest a topic I could write about that we could all debate, please go ahead. Please.

Dear Diary

So, it is the end of an era for me. I have just finished my last year of uni, and thus my student career comes to an end. I'm 23, and since kindergarten I have been at school, in all of its various forms. Maybe I should have done the 'work for a year and then go on to tertiary', but I'm glad I didn't. I did go through a stage last year where I nearly burnt out, and yes it has been hard having no money all the time. But overall, it's been good. I've learnt a lot. Sure maybe I don't remember what I learned in Political Science 101, but I have taken away a lot more then the structures of parliament.
I have particularly enjoyed this past year, I have studied along side a fantastic group of people who I'm going to really miss. I'm also going to miss sitting out in the sun for two hours, waiting for the next class. Playing luchtime cricket or volleyball, no matter how much I sucked at it. Going out in the middle of the week and being hungover the next day with most of the other people in the lecture theatre. Bitching about not learning enough/having too much work. Teaching students and regrouping over a beer/wine, wondering what made us get into teaching. Complaining about being back at teachers college when we just want to keep teaching. I'll miss it all.
But, now into the big world, where I will actually be making money, have more resposibility, not be able to go out during the week - but will probably do it anyway and make my students silent read the next day. And I think I will enjoy it as well, even though I will be leaving the care-free ways of student life. However, I will also be leaving behind the essays I finished at 4 in the morning (or 4 in the afternoon before the 5pm deadline). Perhaps this will be substituted with lesson plans and reports, but we'll see.
So now I say adieu to studentdom - I will miss you.

Procrastination

Meet my friend.
His name is Procrastination.
He helps me out when I have an assignment due by relaxing me and telling me not to worry. He tells me that I have better things to do with my time, like finish my book, wash the dishes or write a post. In fact he is here with me right now, guiding my fingers to the keys, letting me forget those pesky assignments that can ruin a good weekend.
Procrastination is my friend.
I embrace his friendship; he never lets me down. If he sees an assignment task sheet in my hand he is at my side in a second.
Procrastination likes to visit me on a Friday, but come Sunday he has fled. Instead I am visited by another friend – Pressure. Pressure is not quite as comforting as Procrastination, but he sure is motivating. Pressure allows me to produce thousands of insightful words within 24 hours. Pressure does not mind if I spend the whole day inside in scoddy clothes, slightly hungover and looking like the crazy hermit writer who doesn’t brush her hair. Pressure is not judgemental, he knows I should have invited him around earlier, but accepts that I was entertaining Procrastination.

But it is Friday, and Pressure will not be here till Sunday. Procrastination keeps me company.

Intolerant Tolerant

I always considered myself a tolerant, in fact accepting, person. I don’t judge people (well I don’t think I do) by race, sex, sexual orientation, class, age or physical appearance. I would like to add religion to that list, however I often find myself intolerant of people who are themselves intolerant. I do not know people from a vast range of different religions. I know a couple Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists and have never had arguments or issues with them as people. Perhaps the religion itself (there is definitely a lot I do not agree with in the Muslim faith), but not the people. The religion I encounter the most, as most of us do, is Christianity – in all its various forms. The friends I have who are Christian are a tolerant bunch, maybe not always accepting, but tolerant. I know they accept me for who I am, a person who doesn’t live my life the way they believe a good person should. But yet they are accepting. I in turn am tolerant of their beliefs, until they are intolerant. Then my own intolerance sets in. Therefore, I cannot call myself tolerant. I am intolerant of my intolerance. So where does that leave me? Confused. And intolerant – which is not what I want to be. But is a tolerant person a paradox within itself, as you would have to be a saint to be tolerant of intolerant people. And of course it is against a saint’s religion to accept certain people. I might stop now, before I wind myself into a knot of confusion and despair.
If you think you are a truly tolerant person, please explain to me your secret.