I'm at college now. Yep, it's a little strange, especially because I don't post life events on this here blog, but I had to. I find it strange to think that this place honestly picked about seven thousand 18-ish year-olds and then said to them, "You're basically on your own...make all of the decisions you want and then live with the consequences."
The gravity of that doesn't even begin to hit you until they say it to you. It's kind of like telling people you'll meet them for lunch, and it totally works because nobody else was there to interrupt plans. It's total and absolute freedom to either sail above the clouds or quickly crash and burn.
On top of that, they give you all kind of fun statistics that make you feel great about your academic standing - like even being Salutatorian is kind of average here: great!
Anyhow, I'm alive and excited to plan things out. I hope I won't starve cooking for myself, so any simple cooking blog links would be appreciated. I'm starting classes Monday, and last night I had this incredibly spiritual experience that led me to change my major. BYU is seriously a special place and I hope that I can get out of it what they put into my being here.
1 AM
I have a problem…and college is probably only going to make it worse. I pretty regularly stay up until midnight or 1. And the post a week ago was a slight mix of falsehood and truth. The Olympics were keeping me up and with my family past when I usually go to bed. However, it’s fair to mention that going to bed has a slightly different meaning to me:
Going to bed: verb/preposition/noun A near-ritual involving prayers, scriptures study, reading, playing apps on my iPod, adding music to my iTunes library, watching movies, watching TV shows, and other miscellaneous tasks (reading my friend’s blogs) that escape me because I’m running on 4 hours of sleep
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| That's me...but all three activities at once and in my bed |
Actually, what’s happening is really just anything but sleep. Terrible, I know. What’s worse is that it’s probably contagious. My friend Rachael says she might be becoming a night owl. Mixed feelings on that one. She’s the last person alive that loves falling asleep at 9. And I’m kind of jealous. I must have ruined my circadian rhythm long ago, while pursuing the completion of a procrastinated project perhaps?
Whole groups of people get together – albeit usually on weekends – just to participate in this same kind of rebellion against the body’s natural need to recharge and rejuvenate. Now, when I go off to college, I just hope that there are just a few in 30,000+ that want to try an experimental sleep deprivation detox.
Thank You Notes
I read a suggestion the other day that completely caught me by surprise. It was on a business blog that I lost the link for, which is probably why I was surprised. It said to write a thank you note every day, to someone who doesn’t expect it.
Sure, that’ll take you far in business because it shows you are appreciative and a people-person, but it will take you even farther in life in general.
An example:
There’s a guy in my ward that my family has carefully deduced does something we all find incredible. After church, or even right there in sacrament meeting, he takes the time to write a short note of encouragement/thanks for each speaker. It’s always on a card with some kind of silly comic on the front, kind of like the ones in the back of the New Era, but a little more like a sketch.
This guy makes every speaker feel so special and edified because he takes two minutes out of his day to write a note. Mind you, this is not an old man; he has 4 kids under the age of 10, including two 6 year-old twin boys! His example is monumental to me, and I hope there are people out there who do the same for him when he speaks.
Second story/anecdote:
I don’t remember my mom often crying in frustration, at least not in recent memory. But the few times I know of it’s been because being a mom can be one of the most thankless jobs, usually with a thanks here or there, but by no means plentiful.
She had a tough day and mentioned that I didn’t thank her for the laundry or the ride home from school (3+ years ago I suppose) and just looked so downhearted about what she was called to do. Since then I’ve made it a personal point to try to say thank you for something she does for me at least once daily, if not more.
Most people keep mementos of thank-yous in a box or any number of other safe places. I have a couple of shoeboxes I keep, full of things that I can read if I’m feeling down. Compliment sheets from seminary, birthday cards from grandma, notes from a good friend; the best cards from my Eagle court of honor and graduation, letters from my parents from Scout Camp or Aaronic priesthood encampment.
Thank-yous make people feel important, special, loved. Whether it’s a short text, a letter, a scrap of paper note, or a phone call, try to give thanks every day, it makes a bigger difference than you think!
If life were a book I’m finishing a chapter…
These past few days have been a little strange. I’m being forced to consider the possibility that I won’t see my steam clouds coming out of the condenser at close range ever again. My work friends might fall away or I could keep in touch, but I don’t know if I will ever see some of these people again.
I know that’s supposed to be what I say at the end of high school, but really Energy Northwest has been my senior year. I didn’t feel nearly as attached to the rest of the senior class as I do to my team here at work. My countdown started over the weekend when I realized that there are only seven more days. I feel torn; my life here has been comfortable and I don’t mind getting paid more than minimum wage. Then again, BYU awaits and what will feel like so much free time will be welcome.
The new WBLs come in soon, mine tomorrow today. Shelby is unexpectedly here today, so this post must be cut short!