I called a good friend from work today to talk about the presidential debates. We talked more than I expected and over the course of things I heard about a get-together being held on Saturday night. He told me I should come. I told him that I had to work. I really want to go, but I decided that I’d go to work and then church on Sunday.
I was thinking about this more when I was at work earlier this evening. I loved college. I loved hanging out with people and having fun and talking till late at night and wasting lots of time and procrastinating to the extreme. I love it all. I still love the people that I did this with. But when I was at work, with the steam of the dishwashing machine rising into my face, I thought of the title of the early Bob Dylan documentary: “Don’t Look Back.” I thought, “I’ve done it most of my short life, and I have to do it now.” I’ve never had a problem leaving people that are close to me behind before, but now it’s almost like something is sticking within me. I look forward to the future, but I still wish sometimes that I could be transported back a year (its madness) or six months (the stress) to when I was in college and just hanging out and learning and talking and thinking deeply. But as my manager at work put it, “There is no real world.” I’m destined to be a member of academia—in one way or another—for the rest of my life, at least that’s how I feel now.