It’s Friday. I’m sitting by myself, putting together the college newspaper at my college when I’m suddenly struck by an overwhelming boredom. Overwhelming boredom often strikes me when I have been sitting in front of a computer for more than two hours. Doing serious stuff, that is. Games, on the other hand, I can play for hours.
Anyway, I start sending SMS messages with my cellular hoping that this might entertain me for a while. I have a little chat with one of my sisters, send a few messages to a girl that broke up with her boyfriend around Christmas and still hasn’t stopped crying over him, and a message or two to a third girl. During this message exchange I get to know that the third girl is going to start working in a bakery to pay off her student loan. Having told me about her plans for the future, she ask me about my plans for the future. My plans for the future?
But I don’t have any plans for the future, damn it! My only plan for the future was to get done with the newspaper so that I could walk home and get something to eat. Should one have a plan for ones future? Is it wrong not to have plans? I usually only plan for a week or so at the time. And that is not much of a future. Since I realized I didn’t have any real plans and my future was pretty blurry, to put it that way, my messed up mind started to come up with all kinds of scenarios.
I’m 21 years old. Statistically that would give me about 50 years left to live. If I’m not struck by lighting or eating by tigers at the zoo, that is. But because I usually go inside during thunderstorms and I seldom visit zoos with tigers, let’s say that I will live for another 50 years. That’s a lot of time! But I sleep much. About eight hours a day. 8x365x50 = 146000 hours. That’s about 6083 days or 17 years. I will be asleep 17 of those 50 years. But that still gives me about 34 years awake. What the heck should I do for 34 years?