If you could see the pile of books that I’m staring at right now, you would probably say, “Hey! That’s a nice big pile of books!” If you knew they are what I have to bring home to work on over the supposed Fall Break, you would probably say, “Quit now, Rachel. Quit now and never look back.” And I’m inclined to agree with you.
I have the next two days off of school, which would ordinarily be a fantastic thing at this point in the semester. But since my professors assume I have four days to do homework and study (which I don’t, since I work on the weekend), they didn’t hesitate to make all the big projects due on Monday and Tuesday. There are those who were kind enough not to give an extra heavy load of homework, but I’m still scrambling to catch up with the regular assignments that have been due because, guess what, Rachel thought it was a great idea to have a job on the weekend.
But I didn’t come here to complain. So I’m trying to push the constant anxiety away for just a moment, and write something both you and I can be happy with. Here goes…
You know what I sometimes think? My passion for writing is rooted in the fact that I never outgrew playing make-believe. My best friends and I would spend hours at a time imagining we were other people, or at least that we were in different circumstances. It was always so exciting to make up your own world and just live in it. Nothing particularly interesting ever happened—I mean, sure, we were chased by dinosaurs and grew up on deserted islands and had secret missions and made friends with ghosts—but the most fun came from just acknowledging that we were no longer ourselves, we were no longer in our front yards, we were no longer just 8 years old. Not only that, but we were in control of how our lives turned out. Even the relatively normal lives we created for ourselves (being an orphan was always a big hit) seemed so exotic, and at the same time comforting.
I’m sure this also relates to my post last week, about how I tend to stay inside my mind. It’s just so much cooler in there. I don’t get bored easily, because I can always rely on my mind to provide entertainment. Sometimes imagined scenarios, sometimes philosophical meanderings, sometimes memories from my brief life so far. (Sometimes entire sections from the movie Newsies, but I won’t get into that.) And it is from these scenarios in my mind that I come up with scenes on paper.
To connect the middle of this post with the beginning (because I’m an English major, and we like to be tidy like that), I think one of the worst aspects of being so busy this semester is that I don’t have the time to fall back to my default mode of thinking for the sake of thinking. As a result, I haven’t had a good story idea in months. I miss writing. I miss exploring my mind and finding that some of what goes on in there can be useful after all.
P.S. “I plan on writing an epic poem about this gorgeous pie!” Five gold stars to anyone who can identify that quote.