When I came to college, I had 33 pairs of sunglasses, which prompted me to wear a different pair for each day of the first month of my new experience. Sure, it was douchey, but it was also a goal. I’ve lost that ability – the ability to set out and achieve goals.
Nowadays I’ll wear sunglasses sometimes, but it is for one of two reasons. a) Because I am tired and want to have the opportunity to sleep during conversations, or b) Because I am horny and want to have the opportunity to stare directly at breasts during conversations.
These are the goals I set out for myself now.
I’m not saying that as a newbie to the higher educational system I was setting noble goals meant to propel the world into prosperity, but my goals have devolved. I am content now with a day spent scribing the first words that come to my head onto the internet and pretending that I have something useful to say. I used to be in multiple plays at once while completing complicated math homework. Now, I doubt I’d have the ability to complete more than one task per day. Laundry, showering, and shaving all become day long activities that I must choose between.
So, I wore sunglasses yesterday for the first time in a very long time. Why have I not donned one of my 33 pairs of sunny g’s in so long? Because most of them were packed away in boxes on August 31st and unpacking them seemed like it would take a fair amount of effort. So, I left them there and proceeded to be content to borrow other’s eye-hiding devices when I needed to sleep or stare at inappropriate times.
These two things have become my only two goals.
Sleeping is something I do for an average of 10 hours a day, and staring is the only thing left that keeps me a part of the world around me. Staring evolves into observing and then observing allows me the opportunity to pretend that I have stories to tell. Really I just have hijacked other’s lives to find interesting tidbits to comment/hate on.
I will quote a line from The Office that Michael Scott says to Toby Flenderson because I think it represents my relationship with the world around me – “I hate so much of what you choose to be.” And I’m glad I do, because otherwise my contentedness would drive me to suicidal boredom.