Thursday, February 10, 2005
Hold On
I keep telling myself these days that I need to remember to make the most of this time in my life. After I graduate in June, I'll jump into the "real world," and soon go work at a job that requires me to be there every day for a long time. The life of a student is so much more unstructured and free. Almost all of my time is my own to use as I see fit. Granted, I don't always use it as productively as I should, but sometimes being unproductive is a very happy thing to do.
This semester in particular, I'm trying not to take my free time for granted. I only have classes on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. In fact, my last class lets out at 12:20 on Wednesday, so my weekend starts just about literally halfway through the week. My class load is light, so I'm able to take care of my homework on those days, leaving Thursday through Sunday to myself. I need to get cracking on my third-year paper, but I'm also using the time to do a lot of personal reading, taking a nap now and then, and just enjoying life.
Even in the evenings when Shelly gets home from work, I need to cherish this phase of life. This period, in which we don't have any children, will end someday--perhaps soon (no, this isn't an announcement!). The quiet evenings we have together to talk or play games or read or retire early won't be nearly so frequent, if they occur at all. When there's a baby in the house, so I'm told, you don't get to sleep all the way through the night very often. The quiet time with the two of us won't happen again till all the kids are off to college.
Don't get me wrong--I'm excited for the next phases of my life, both professionally and personally. I'm kind of trunky at school, and anxious to be a father. I anticipate that the future will be better than the present, largely because my time will be devoted to other people more than it is now. I have found that to be the case in my recent transition from single to married. But in the meantime, as I sit here at 5:15 on a Thursday, unshowered and in my pajamas, I have to smile and register this time in my head, so I'll always remember.
This semester in particular, I'm trying not to take my free time for granted. I only have classes on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. In fact, my last class lets out at 12:20 on Wednesday, so my weekend starts just about literally halfway through the week. My class load is light, so I'm able to take care of my homework on those days, leaving Thursday through Sunday to myself. I need to get cracking on my third-year paper, but I'm also using the time to do a lot of personal reading, taking a nap now and then, and just enjoying life.
Even in the evenings when Shelly gets home from work, I need to cherish this phase of life. This period, in which we don't have any children, will end someday--perhaps soon (no, this isn't an announcement!). The quiet evenings we have together to talk or play games or read or retire early won't be nearly so frequent, if they occur at all. When there's a baby in the house, so I'm told, you don't get to sleep all the way through the night very often. The quiet time with the two of us won't happen again till all the kids are off to college.
Don't get me wrong--I'm excited for the next phases of my life, both professionally and personally. I'm kind of trunky at school, and anxious to be a father. I anticipate that the future will be better than the present, largely because my time will be devoted to other people more than it is now. I have found that to be the case in my recent transition from single to married. But in the meantime, as I sit here at 5:15 on a Thursday, unshowered and in my pajamas, I have to smile and register this time in my head, so I'll always remember.
Comments:
I have to say, as the somewhat (okay somewhat more than somewhat) frenzied mother of three children under age 6, I wish that I would have appreciated this concept a little more "back in the day" as they say.
My mother told me the other day as I complained about the endless work of chauffeuring my five year-old, potty-training my stubborn three year-old and chasing after my thirteen month/two-foot tall personification of entropy, "Someday you'll look back and wish for these days again." Yeah, right.
But...could it be as the old cliche states, that "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?" Or is it more likely that we forget some of the down-sides of what we had when it's over?
Either way, I find that it is therapeutic to record (via video-recorder, camera, or plain old pen and paper) both the good and the bad of these times. When I watch the videos of even a few years ago and see my baby girl on the day she was born (even though I see and remember the pain and suffering involved in getting her here), I am already nostalgic.
BTW-- in your p.j.'s at 5:15 on a weekday? Come on, Astle-- esta' fubecando!
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My mother told me the other day as I complained about the endless work of chauffeuring my five year-old, potty-training my stubborn three year-old and chasing after my thirteen month/two-foot tall personification of entropy, "Someday you'll look back and wish for these days again." Yeah, right.
But...could it be as the old cliche states, that "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?" Or is it more likely that we forget some of the down-sides of what we had when it's over?
Either way, I find that it is therapeutic to record (via video-recorder, camera, or plain old pen and paper) both the good and the bad of these times. When I watch the videos of even a few years ago and see my baby girl on the day she was born (even though I see and remember the pain and suffering involved in getting her here), I am already nostalgic.
BTW-- in your p.j.'s at 5:15 on a weekday? Come on, Astle-- esta' fubecando!
