brinshannara | Jan. 13th, 2005

But, of course, I'm not. I need to go to bed earlier, but it's hard, when your earliest class in a week is at 2:45pm.

Such is the case for me tomorrow (well, Thursday).

I have too much to do and not enough time to do it in, so I'm taking my habitual "well, I just won't do any of it!" course of action until such time that the panic kicks me into overdrive and I miraculously finish all my obligations just in the nick of time. (What? It works! Did it for my Sociology of Cyberspace final exam and got an A in the course.)

Sometimes, I wonder what the hell it is I'm doing here. Not here as in "why am I here? Why are any of us here?" but more like "why do I write at this livejournal?" and "will I really care, four years from now, what the hell I was doing at nearly 6am on January 13th, 2005?"

Part of me loves such an organized record of doings, because I'm a packrat, and I love things being organized for me like that.

Part of me wonders if that shouldn't just be one of the things I try to change about myself.

I just erased like, eight voicemails I'd been saving for a while. Three from one person, a few from another and a couple from random, varied people. I'd kept some of them for over a year. I saved the one of one of my friends announcing to me that she'd given birth, the amusing ones from my brother, the one from my Lush... and that's it.

The packrat in me is shuddering, twitching, that I would give up these intangible, disembodied voices from my past so easily, but really, if it's been more than a year, that means I've resaved the message a minimum of 52 times. Irritating as hell, and not that easy to give up, apparently.

Another part of me knows it's for the best. Recent events have shown me that moving on is a good thing. Letting go of the past has never been easy for me, and always a long, complicated process, which undoubtedly winds up being a hell of a lot longer than it should be in the first place.

So maybe this space is serving a purpose. Mindless distractions, momentary fandom squeeing (re: tonight's Alias episode, for instance), a place to update online and offline friends of my life's happenings... and maybe helping me to work through some of my issues.

I don't want to be stuck in the past. I realized that tonight. As fond as I am of the past (and everyone in the universe surely knows that by now), the past will never come again. And I don't want to be the woman sitting there, at age twenty-seven-years-and-seven-months-and-six-days, wishing things could have gone differently in 1997. Or 1999. Or 2000. Or 2002. Or 2003. Or 2004. And yet, that's exactly who I've been for the last couple of weeks. Hell of a way to start a new year. It's amazing how old baggage catches up to you, even when you'd thought you'd left it behind.

Here's to trying to put it behind me again -- for good, this time.

(We now return you to your regularly-scheduled normal LJ, in which I get very excited about school things, ABC television shows and am very sleep deprived.)