Amazon Peoples

I’m tired. It’s about that time in the semester when everything picks up in a hard way. I think it’s funny though that we as students complain so much about work. After all, I suppose that’s what we are here to do. It still seems like we are getting hammered with work when we just want to be getting hammered. I find that it can be a struggle to feed your academic life and your social life equally. It seems like it’s hard for people I talk to who have been out of college for some ten or more years to remember that being a college student is a full time job. I don’t mean forty hours a week—that’s twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. We are scholars, athletes, social animals, friends, enemies, and everything in between. I often feel myself pretending to be an adult, when I know I just want to be a kid. I think that might be what all of life is like. I don’t know yet though.

It’s hard to say what the point of this is. It’s a race for the best grades or the most friends or the craziest weekend. But then, before you realize it, it’s senior year, and you have to go out into the “real world.” I love that though—real world—as if the world of college is not real, or the outside world is somehow realer. I’m not sure it is. Life is just what you make of it, whether that be a corner office for a corporate giant, or traveling the world, or being adopted into some little known tribe in the Amazon basin. I’m not sure if that last one is very plausible though—I’m sure the indigenous peoples would think we looked and smelled funny, and they’d probably try to kill us.