The adjectives of headaches

Pounding, splitting, terrible, bad, migraine, sinus, stress, sugar, tension.

I think it's dumb that heads hurt. Mine does, so the post today will be colored ( or coloured) by a dull ache that started sometime last night in my cerebellum. I suppose it could be something tragic like a life threatening illness, but I'm fairly certain it's just your average garden variety headache.

Today's post is not happening in the hours between 11 pm and 1 am, so that is something notable.

I've thought a lot recently about what to do with my life, and where to send my resume. There are many options open to me, regardless of the struggling economic conditions. I will graduate in less than seven months, and will join the minority of American college graduates. And the skill set that I have is particularly versatile, in that I can work in any mass medium. I could do news sales, outdoor marketing, public relations, political communication, radio or TV broadcasting, not for profit organization promotion, or anything I want to.

But how do I decide? I've been recently struck by the state of the current generation and the generation following us. Suicide, addiction, promiscuity, eating disorders, bullying, sex-ting, iPhones giving us up to the minute information about who's betraying who, iPods tuning out real world interactions, iTunes giving us a way to organize our pirated music, and the list goes on.

We really are in trouble, or will be soon. and I want to do something with my life that will hold back a few people from plummeting over the precipice into this consuming consumerism that is the USA. Maybe non-profit is the way I need to look.

But then I wouldn't make any money.
And then I wouldn't have my 8 car, 3 person family.
And my 52 bedroom house.
Or my 25 bedroom summer cottage.
Or my lear jet.
or my 1000$ shoes.

After all, what really matters is who makes the most money, right?

On Time

Our lives are scheduled in so many ways. In our current culture, the clock governs so much. The calendar marches onward, and the tragedy of wasted time is the worst act that one can commit.

But we are hemmed in more by our concept of time than actual time itself. Time goes no slower for one than it does for another. The snail has just as many hours as the roadrunner. The roadrunner has just as few hours as the snail. our days have been measured out like grains of sand in an hourglass.

So, Senior projects, internships, college, career, deadlines, due dates, all of these are constructs of our mind. Fabrications of our united effort to stress each other out, to make us so busy that we miss the timelessness of life.

In the big picture, there are few real issues that are constrained by time.

We really cannot abandon the tracks of time, but perhaps we can evaluate how hard we try to adhere to an imagined concept. If the whole culture is imagining the same thing, does it really make it true? Do we really believe the world will end, or our carriage will turn into a pumpkin if the clock strikes midnight and we are still at the ball?

We do, and we shouldn't.