a life less ordinary?

I read that really popular book Eat, Pray, Love this summer. I hate being inspired by cliche things but I feel my life is defined by a quote from that book.

"Life, if you keep chasing it so hard, will drive you to death"

I am exhausted. I am exhausted from constantly debating what to do with my life. Every time I start to panic I come to the conclusion that I CAN'T plan everything. I know this, but I can't stop wanting a plan.

I've realized through this constant state of worry that the reason for my anxiety comes from the fact that I want to do EVERYTHING. I really do. I want to:

Learn Spanish
Join the Peace Corps
Take classes in pottery, painting, dance and printmaking
Travel to Austrailia, New Zealand, Morocco, Italy, Greece, Spain, Portugal, Egypt, Chile, Argentina, Switzerland, Japan, Thailand, China, Korea, Kenya....the list will really never end.
Live in: Boston, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Seattle, New York, Washington D.C., London, Edinburgh....and any of the countries listed above
Get an MPH
Get certified to teach ESL
Learn to snowboard
Get a dog
Get a second degree in International Studies
Write a book
Get a Doctorate
Books I want to read: The Alchemist, Man's Searh for Meaning, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, A Tale of Two Cities, Freakanomics...this list will also never stop.

I sincerely want to believe I can do it all, but it's exhausting to think which one should come first. It's exhausting to think about where I will make money to do these things.

now Carbon Leaf is echoing inside my head "Live a life less ordinary, live a life extrodinary with me...."

Teletransporters

Life really is one big crazy chain of events. Lately I have been thinking about all the things that lead me to this point in my life. This over-analysis it characteristic of me, but also probably not abnormal for someone about to jump headfirst into the adult world. I think the connections of life events is exhilirating and terrifying at the same time. I feel like I can trace almost everything back to my experience with chronic illness at age 15. At the time, it was just this sucky thing that happened, that made me different from my peers at a time when you desperately want to be like everyone else. When it finally ended, I became a more motivated student and gave me empathy for others and an interest in working in a health related profession. Maybe I would've gotten to that point without being sick, but I doubt it.

As much as I hate to admit it, I think Graves' disease got me in to UW-LaCrosse. If I hadn't had the attached letter from my high school counselor attached to my application, explaining my "extenuating circumstances" I don't think I would've been accepted.

If I hadn't gone to LaCrosse, I wouldn't have been roomates with Mel, had things go horribly and gotten a random roomate my second year.

If I hadn't of gotten a random roomate, I never would've met Kya, the person who introduced me to the field of public health, not to mention the person who has become one of my favorite people in the world and has acted as a mentor in my life.

If I hadn't majored in public health, I wouldn't have accidentally gotten the e-mail from Kathryn about the internship program in Cape Town.

If I hadn't interned in CT, I probably wouldnt have been on the topic of international work that lead my aunt to suggest work at TASIS, I also wouldn't have gained the interest in working internationally. I wouldn't have formed a bond with Dr. Gilmore that lead me to become more motivated in school, seek out more opportunities, and get the internship I have now.

I find it exhilirating to think about these connections, especially because I am happy with where live has lead me so far and also because this long chain of events emerged from a debilitating illness. What is terrifying is knowing all the options I currently have and their ability to shape my future through more connecting events. I wish I could map out what would happen in result of each choice I have. Which choice would result in the most happiness, growth, excitement?

One of the psychology professors at UW-L once started a lecture by talking about the possibilty of transporting yourself through time and space in the future. So, you could live on Earth and work on Mars. Unfortunately, one day, there is a malfunction and the transportation device duplicates you. Now there is one of you on Earth and one of you on Mars. Which one is the "real" you? From the second you duplicate, each "self" is having different experiences that make it a different person. So basically, there are two of you living out in the world...beoming different people. I wish I could split for awhile and see how different choices would shape me. But then, knowing me, I would see the positives and negatives to each life and never be able to choose which self I wanted to be.

distraction confusion.

So much of my thoughts now center around what I will do with the rest of my life, I wonder what I used to think about.

I am completely, utterly, distracted with uncertainty and confusion.

Today I tried to study for my certification exam and I stared at the wall for 2 hours. Just thinking. Trying to map out my life.

I feel like I can't even have a conversation anymore with discussing my potential lifeplans. I'm so self-centered.

Sunday Monotony

When I was in middle school and high school, I always did my weekend homework on Sunday evenings after dinner. Usually my family was watching whatever Sunday evening TV program they were into at the time. It doesn't really sound that bad. Sure, no one ever liked doing their homework, but that wasn't what bothered me. I distinctly remember a feeling of horrible monotonous misery at the thought of another week starting that was just like the last. I remember thinking "Is this all there is?". A week of school/ work, looking forward to the weekend, and then, it's over. It always disappeared during the week because I was a busy kid, but it was that Sunday night calmness that came with the dinner dishes being cleaned up and the TV flickering that really meant monotony. That's how I feel all the time now. Facing the end of the crazy undergraduate years, coming out of three summers abroad. All I can think about of a future with a 9-5 job, 2 weeks off a year, spending Sunday nights preparing for another week- is that all there is?

Last Sunday I cried. Really cried. Any kind of crying is uncharacteristic for me, but this cry was incredibly rare. I was standing in my bedroom, no one home at my house, preparing for Monday when it just ripped through me. No warning. I felt the wave of emotion sweep through my body and had to sit down on my bed before it knocked me over. And then it happened. loud sobs. tears. snot. My sinuses felt like they were going to explode. My lungs started burning for air. I felt like my stomach was coming up my throat. I actually grabbed for my garbage can at one point because I thought I was going to vomit. It stopped almost as quickly as it began and I was left wondering, exactly, why it began.

Except, I think I really do know. I don't want the life I'm leading right now, or the one I feel I'm being pushed in to and I'm not sure if I have the courage to live the life I dream of.

negativity isn't becoming.

I was horribly unproductive today. I'm supposed to be clocking 8 hours/ day on this lit. review for ACS. Can't. Focus. I need to hand a final copy to my boss on Monday morning. I cannot pull an all nighter before my first day on the job. Must do work tomorrow.

I'm a miserable person right now. Faking excitement.

I keep staring into the future and it's pretty cloudy. Undefined. I don't have a plan. To quote Friends, I don't even have a pla.

The only definite feeling I have is that I must not end up living at home. What if I never leave again? Hometowns suck you in like that.

Too many thoughts to sort out. All pretty negative.

School Supplies

Tonight I sat at my desk. Staring at my computer. Picturing a blank Word document with a blinking cursor inside my head. Get up. Move. Do something productive. I didn't. My temples aching, nausea beginning. Of course. It is, afterall, me, the same girl who always shuts down under the stress of a new environment. I begin every new endeavor with the gusto of a kid on the first day of school. New school supplies equal new beginnings in my mind. I wonder if it's bad luck to be starting this "semester" with half used notebooks and three ring binders that pop open if you turn too many pages at once. But, it's not really school. It's a quasi-job under the mask of university credit that is leaving me hanging in limbo between undergraduate and real world person. Does that require a new notebook?

Did you ever feel like new school supplies seemed old and wrinkled more quickly than they should? I did. Maybe because I was the kid who couldn't keep my desk clean for more than an hour after the weekly, mandatory, clean out your desk days. I was always finding the weirdest stuff in there. That's how I feel about my new space in this new city. It was so perfectly set up a day ago. I already have a stay coffee mug on my desk, running shoes on my rug, and jeans that I took off and left where they fell. A personal trademark. When I still lived at home, my mom used to say it looked like my pants were going to walk off without me. Trying to be really clean stresses me out, but then again, so does a big mess. That is such a typical thing for me to say. I panic in all new environments, immediately wanting to get back to the last place I was. The funny thing is, the utopia I crave I was once resisiting. Right now I want to be in London circling free entertainment in the Time Out magazine, using the glorious public transportation and wandering aimlessly, absorbing the energy of a fantastic city. Even more, I'd love to be back at TASIS collecting attendance forms, making 15 year old girls turn out their lights, going for pints at the Red Lion. I miss it so much now, you never would've guessed that I spent my first days there feeling miserably out of place, wishing I had never accepted the job. Actually, you probably could guess it. I can rewind through all the different stages of the past 4 years and see the pattern. Hell turns to heaven. Misery to glee. Enemies to friends. If I can see that it always happnens, why can't I stop my worry now? Because, I'm sure this is going to be the time it doesn't work out. This time, it actually sucks. Thought that every other time too.

This time is a little different I guess. Usually, I know where the next phase is taking place. That predeterminded ending of the semester or departure date is always the begining of a new block of time that I have already planned. The end of the semester means a holiday season at home or a summer abroad. The departure date means I head for class. Of course, with a class schedule that I meticulously mapped out the year before, avoiding Friday classes and early mornings. Now, this last planned out block of time isn't really the beginning of anything definite. Mid-December marks the end of my internship, the end of college, and the beginning of....the rest of my life?

Now my head really hurts.