There are so many things that go through my head in a day alone, so picking a topic for a weekly blogpost can be quite challenging sometimes.
Sometimes, I don't even understand how my mind works and/or goes from one topic to another. I can be like, "Wow, is it warm in this room or what that's a good-looking pen over there I wonder what the lunch will be today I hope it's good last time it tasted all sparkly ugh shiny stuff sucks like what even is foil being all shiny and crap whoa that's sticks and cakes oh dude not just cakes but like sandwich cakes is it a sandwich or is it a cake like I don't even know what was that sound ouch something poked my ear or was that me did I just poke my ear with my pen oh God I hope no one noticed if they did they are probably judging me right now who has a judgy face is it you or you maybe it's you or it could be you here it's totally you..."
To add to that, my mind has been constantly running for the past seven days non-stop. I have dreamed about logic symbols (Tildes, triple bars and horseshoes anyone?), Socrates (definitely not that kind of dream), and (the freakin') "Niceness Surveys" all in one week. It is not fun. One night (or 'early morning,' actually), I remember going to bed and my last thought was "I have to email the agenda topics in the morning and I have to..." and when I jolted awake to the obnoxious beeping of my alarm/cellphone, I continued, "...include the monthly report and updates so that I know what to share at the meeting." It's like I didn't sleep guys. IT IS LIKE I DID NOT EVEN SLEEP.
So yes, lots of topics. Today alone, I thought about how interesting it was that someone's lonely end can end someone's loneliness. I thought about possibly needing a venti cup of non-fat cafe moccha with caramel syrup and a shot of espresso in the morning just to get through what I knew would be a long day (and it was). I thought about deep fried green tomatoes and really fresh coconut water (which you know for sure is fresh because they dehusk and clean that giant thing in front of you before you pay for it). I thought about how you could possibly let a wonderful friendship simply wither away because of something silly like pride. I thought about how I could possibly ever understand anything about personal relationships. I thought about recommendation letters that have literally turned days around in the past and reminded me that I am strong and valuable and extraordinary when I had forgotten all of these things. I thought about how when you sing your heart out until you sound like a hoarse horse, you do not only feel the reverberations of your voice, but also the ripples of your soul in the song. I thought about telling secrets in the car and how that act can bring about such harsh (but not malicious) judgment. But more importantly, it can bring release and comfort in that your friends may judge you but not in a way that will make them think less of you. In fact, the sharing of secrets, I think, makes you more more than it makes you less. I thought about age gaps and arguments, of friendships solid as rock, and those that aren't, of something that could possibly be called love but I wouldn't really know, of challenges (and challengers) and sass, of faces that are here and faces that never left.
But mostly, today, I thought about how, even while looking at it from a different perspective, competing at a speech tournament is just so incredibly taxing and nerve-wracking. This was the first qualifying tournament I judged and I realized that my rankings actually make a difference now. Giving someone a 6 isn't going to be easy anymore because I would evaluate a student's performance and realize that my giving them the 6th place will drive them to the bottom half of the competition, and possibly take away any chance of breaking to the final rounds. I now know how hard it is to label kids with numbers in comparison to one another, knowing that there will be a student who will get the 1 or the 2 and, as a result, will most likely advance to the final rounds and earn a spot at the state competition; and that the student to whom I give the deadly 5 and 6 probably won't even see the light of a state qualification, at least for this one tournament.
And that's when I imagine the "crestfallenness" that I had seen many times before on many a student's face--on my teammates', on other competitor's faces, and on my own. How defeated and useless I had felt before not seeing my number on that pathetic little piece of paper that was worth so much more than it seemed, and as I watched from the sidelines for the first time, I saw that their faces mirrored my own from only at least a year ago during times of loss. And how incredibly beaten I felt today knowing that I had a part in that crime.
So yes, lots of thoughts. Time does that to us--it gives our memories company, these questions of heft. So yeah. Okay, I should leave before things get awkward. (Or, actually, more awkward.)
Risks: 38
Books Read: 7
Thank You Notes Written: 8 (none this week , sorry)
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