On a perpetual holiday from real…

When I was a kid, I called myself a professional summer vacationer.

I would spend three quarters of the year dreaming of the summer, of those three months of laziness and no alarm clocks. Most kids love vacation; I lived for it. It was what kept me going throughout the school year. In 12th grade, a guy in my class asked me if I remembered how I used to keep a countdown every year to the last day of school. I didn’t, but it sounds very much in character for me.

So then a bunch of years went by. I said goodbye to school and hello to college, where the sanctity of summer vacation is trampled on by “summer semester.” My freshman year, I held onto delusions about the great vacation I would have, and I have to admit, it wasn’t bad. The return of friends who were studying in other countries actually made it a good summer. It was not, however, a vacation. Vacation means staying in your pyjamas all day, watching three movies in one sitting, having sleepovers and eating way too many pizza sandwiches. But I was in college now.  I had class at 8 am, and if I was hungry, I made myself some instant noodles.

My second summer as a college student was terrible. My hatred for everything university-related in the summer kept me from signing up for classes. No, this time I tried out a new college-specific horror: internship. It was still nice to see old friends, but the novelty of their arrival had worn off and I spent my summer translating news briefs about MPs receiving delegations and cars overturning with the Jordan Times for three months. Nobody really had the energy to make plans; me and my friends were all worn out from work (or, in my case, “work”). I can confidently say it was the worst summer of my life.

So with little hope of any meaningful vacation in the future, what does a professional summer vacationer live for? It’s taken me a while, but I think I’ve figured it out. It’s simple really. I do nothing…all the time. I ignore my real life responsibilities and piss away my time on things that don’t matter. Without scheduled vacations to look forward to, I perpetually procrastinate. I put off everything, even the things I want to do, to sit around and wait for my life to happen. And whereas vacations gave me an opportunity to really enjoy doing nothing for months at a time, I don’t feel that enjoyment anymore. Now I hate doing nothing and I feel restless all the time. And still, I can’t break out of this rut of bla, bla and bla.

I’m not really sure how I got this way. I mean, I’ve always been terrible at organizing my time, but I never used to feel like I’m wasting months of my life at a time. What I do know is that I am finally becoming serious about making a change. Now all I need to do is figure out how.

~*mia

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