I feel an aching regret and guilt in decisions. The guilt will not desist from existing, but I remain hopeful that if I pull myself together for another attempt I may be able to reach the end of the limitless assignments.
Pity party invitations had gone out and it was limited to one; as everyone would have declined I decided not to put out optimistic ambitions. Nevertheless I have worked my way into one day off a week, and punished every moment of free time with either the arrogance that I will "take the day off" or this continuous seltzer-needed stress.
I can see the age lines cross my face. I can see the summer ending and realizing it never began for having not actually left the classroom. I am working towards the end of these papers. I write each one with a check mark that I have completed another essay. I would rather be afloat in Greece, reading Hemingway, listening to friends laugh, and drinking a bottle of Merlot. Perhaps I will not need what I studied when I drift on the ocean, or maybe I will enjoy the boat ride more in light of the former.
I desire more travel, time to learn a new language, and time to regret nothing. Even a night off from textbooks.
