Second Saturday. Second blog. Let’s gooo. (Side note: I wrote the first blog on Saturday the 7th, but just wasn’t able to publish it until yesterday, if you were wondering.)
I finished my first full week of classes and I am EXHAUSTED. My current schedule is I wake up sometime between 7:00 and 7:30 AM, get on the train around 8:50, get to campus around 10:00 and do some work in the office, then go to class until 2:30, eat, maybe do some homework, then head home and get back by 4:30. It’s not that bad, honestly. It’s just that getting used to it has been a bit tough. My sleep schedule is still messed up from summer and my brain is still not fully back on. Y’know, usual back to school business. But once I get more accustomed to it, I think it’ll be smooth sailing. I hope so, at least.
My classes have been okay. My religion and English classes are kind of boring. The readings are so dense and my professors are ever so slightly unengaging. Religion professor occasionally goes on uninteresting and confusing spiels. English professor loves to shoot down my ideas. Or rather, he loves to shoot down conversation in general; he expects the class to talk, but when we do, he barely has anything to add to it. I’m just hoping these professors are just getting accustomed to school themselves. Regardless, the homework for both classes isn’t too bad—just lots of reading, but we live—so I’m just sticking it out. No need to find classes to replace them or anything.
Besides this, I just have one more comment about my classes…… WHERE ARE THE HOTTIES??!!?!
If someone from my classes somehow manages to see this: You’re beautiful. You’re fabulous. Who cares about what I think? Everyone’s perfect. Blah blah blah. Now go away.
Now, back to business.
WHERE ARE THE HOTTIES??!!?! I need a hot person in my class to have a crush on, to daydream about. For my sanity. For my attention span. For the sake of love!
Okay actually… This needs to be discussed.
I have seen hot people on campus. I have seen hot people in DePaul merch off-campus. I know they exist! Where the FUCK are they?! There are zilch in my classes. Literally all of the classes I’ve ever had have had no hotties. It almost makes me want to cry. How am I supposed to fall in love now? Are there just no hot people in my major? Is that it? Oh brother, these next three years are going to suck. Actually… Would I even date an English major? Honestly, probably not. We’re freaks. Too artsy fartsy with an emphasis on fart; often way too pretentious and self-absorbed; and they overuse semicolons. Maybe a literary studies concentration. But, honey, there definitely ain’t enough room for two creative writing freaks here.
I’m not going to lie, this whole week as I’d been moving about without my phone, I kept expecting a meet cute. More than once I thought I was going to have coffee spilled on me while bumping into someone. I wish. Is it so wrong to want a funny story to tell people when they ask how we met? Is it so wrong to want to believe coincidence is fate? C’mon. Give me chance.
In general, I want to meet more cool people. There may be cool people in my classes. It’s too early to tell, but it’s not impossible. I need to start sniffing them out, I think. Go hunting for them. By which I mean I should join a club. I don’t want to. I looked at clubs available and barely any of them seem that worthwhile. I want a fun, yet chill club that is perfectly tailored to my interests. I want cool people to come flocking to me and I want us to connect instantly. Why do I have to do everything myself and work for what I want? Tears. Literal tears.
Moving on, I hung out with friends yesterday! It was so fun; we saw the Bean. And the Faces, or whatever they’re called. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them both. Well, I mean, I have seen them, but not while they were welcoming visitors. (Too cold for the Faces to spit and the Bean was undergoing surgery.) I felt like a kid seeing them again. No one was lying on the floor under the bean, which was odd to me. I remember everyone used to do that. I partially wanted to, but then I figured perhaps it’s best that that is a forgotten tradition. It do be kind of gross. There weren’t too many people in the water at the Faces either. It was hot enough—I think it’s because all the kids were still in school. I think that tradition should absolutely stick around, no matter how gross. We still swim in Lake Michigan, don’t we?
Throughout my time downtown, along with my commutes, I’ve felt immense amounts of sonder. Sonder, n., the feeling of realizing every person around you has their own life, as full and complex as your own. Every time I ride the train, I wonder about the person sitting next to me. Where do they work or go to school? Are they flying home or are they about to go on vacation? Where is home? Who is home? Is home who they’re texting right now? What are they listening to? What are they thinking about? Are they wondering the same about me?
When people pull in their chairs to let me pass, I feel their compassion more strongly. When they hold the door open for me, I thank them more sincerely. Every small act of kindness seems bigger nowadays. I’m not sure why. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m realizing it more; less phone equals more time to notice everyone. Maybe I’m uber lonely, taking such strong solace in small connections. Maybe both. Maybe neither. I don’t know.
Would you look at that? It’s half past midnight. Guess I’m not fixing my sleep schedule today.
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