I won't say that I have never been a procrastinator, because that would be a lie and I appreciate my readers too much to lie to them. I will admit to my procrastination, yet I almost always manage to swim to the surface at the last minute, dashing in with hot-off-the-press assignments and my charming smile that says "you don't really want to penalize me for being 12 minutes past the deadline, do you?"
But this time is different. The surface seems so far away, and I'm starting to feel the narcosis. The little munchkins in my head are starting to sound reasonable, telling me that obviously my professors are out to get me, that of course they get together in the wee hours of the morning for boxed wine and plan my dramatic downfall. Now, I know this isn't true. But if it was, at least I could blame my procrastination on someone other than myself.
The first two years of college were dedicated to keeping my grades up so I could study abroad (check), outsmarting a boy (now a mute point), and making Mckenzie proud of Mckenzie (mostly check). Well...now what? I've come back from the great adventure, I'm single as a Pringle, and my confidence and worth is found in the Lord. What now? What is the reason I wake up in the morning? Why am I bothering with all this? Why am I jumping through all these hoops?
I don't know, and contrary what my father always told me when I got in trouble, that is a totally acceptable answer right now. As much as I wish it wasn't, my current goal is to finish, and not fail. I wish I could tell you I can't imagine doing anything but teaching, that a high school classroom is where my heart has to be, that I can look past all drama and stupidity of public education and soldier through anyway. Sorry folks, but I can't tell you those things. To be quite honest, I see myself doing anything but that. Teaching is a labor of love, and I just don't know that I am made to love people in that way.
I am not saying that I won't ever "teach" someone something, or that I'm not going to continue my education degree. Nothing is changing. I will still be a certified teacher when I graduate; but I don't know what comes after that, and that is okay. I have 21 months to figure out what comes next.
So if you see me around, no I'm not sick or dying or depressed. I'm just in college. I'm scared to get a paper cut for fear of coffee spurting out where there should be blood.
Someday - I believe someday soon - there will come the bigger-than-me, world-changing, mind-shattering end game motivation that will drive the rest of my life.