Monday, February 09, 2004
(8:43 PM) | Adam Kotsko:
Wasting Time
I have no concept of rest. I should, by all rights, be working all the time, which for me means reading and writing all the time. As I'm unable to justify scheduled breaks, all my interrupting activity (primarily video games of late -- not just TV, because I want to be "doing" something) tends toward excess. Whatever I'm doing, I can't stop, because in principle, this should be my last time, ever. After this, I'm going to read that entire book, then another, then another, then write -- what?
Once I told Mike Hancock that I was worried blogging would ruin my writing. He said that since I don't know what kind of writing I want to be doing, I shouldn't worry about it. I do, though. I worry that the computer in general is ruining my writing. Several months ago, I switched from journaling in notebooks to journaling on the computer, specifically to make writing less of a "production," to take the pressure off. I've probably written less in my journals since then, rarely anything of meaning. I don't know why I even write them anymore, except out of fear of breaking the chain forever, a chain that reaches back nearly ten years.
Do I know how to write just for me? Is it bad if I don't? I perform before a very demanding audience most of the time. I know that the only one making the demands is me, that if I had to point this audience out I would have to point to my own chest, but it still feels like it's someone else -- the big Other, maybe. The big Other sets up all manner of expectations for me -- I should be reading voraciously at all times (except on Friday and Saturday nights when I should be out having a lot of fun), spending two hours a day learning German and French, learning a new piece on the piano, perhaps even exercising or going to daily mass, certainly sleeping less and cutting out the video games entirely. I need a schedule. I need to know what's going on in my life and get it all under control and make sure that all this wonderful, ample time I've given myself does not go to waste. I need to keep my house tidy. I need to keep up on my New Yorker subscription. Why exactly have I not published yet? Why does my bank balance hover around $40?
Am I eating right? Shouldn't I be eating something interesting right now? Why do I eat the same things all the time? I'm so boring. All I want to do is learn about stuff no one cares about so I can talk to nobody about it. Why do I buy such weird books? I don't want you using my money on weird books. But why such obvious ones? Do I have good taste in music? Am I too much of a snob? Am I enough of a snob? Why do I cut my hair so short? I look so nice with longer hair, if only I wanted to take the time to style it.
Why do I spend so much time walking back and forth? Seriously. It's so creepy -- I walk back and forth a hundred times in the store, afraid to ask for help because I mapped it out beforehand and don't want to admit that my map was based on inadequate information. I get lost on the road and bang on the steering wheel. I get a ticket for something I didn't even do, and I can only control my rage because it's so pathetic and I don't want to look pathetic. My boss told me that I was so nice and that it was really unexpected on those few occasions when I would get angry. Did she really see that? I don't want people to see me do things. I told that to Dr. Cohen once, during those excruciating hours when he had to train me to do something. He said he'd noticed -- had he seen me trying to avoid being seen? There's a reason they never trained me to do anything. I wanted to just "pick it up," to do it like a seasoned vet the first time, as though I knew all along -- so obvious. I was so ready for that. Composed. Ready. In control.
I am nice. People like me -- they'd probably like me more if I made a little more of an effort. Why can't I be a little more up-front about introducing myself to people? It's hard, even after years of practice, but I just have to force myself to do it. Dive in. Enjoy life. Meet people. Be young. You're so old already. Enjoy. I just want you to be happy. Just enjoy yourself. Be yourself. I just want you to be happy. Please.
