Spring Break is Over

And I don't want to go back to Raleigh tomorrow. Given a choice between going back to school and keeping house, I honestly don't know which one I'd choose. I said that I was becoming Susie Homemaker, and the manner in which I said it was tinged with distaste. But what is perhaps quite sad is that I have no problem being Susie Homemaker. I'm not going to walk around the house in a skirt and apron all day, but I do like cooking, and cleaning has certain tangible rewards. What then am I doing at school? As far as I can see, I'm proving that I can still learn, and that my mind is as sharp as it ever was. But I have no real purpose. I have no great ambition. I have no ambition. Perhaps that is fear talking - fear of change, fear of the unknown. Perhaps I'm afraid of what I could be, what I could do for this world. I am, but I'm also lazy. Callie summed me up wonderfully when she said I was the "laziest smart person" she ever knew. I get good grades, and I work for them, but not nearly as hard as others work for lower grades. The only way I can explain it is luck. God, I hope that doesn't reek of hubris. People tell me that I have a lot to offer the world, but what if I don't want to share? Is that wrong of me? And why is it that my posts have lately tended towards the more thoughtful and deeper topics? I'll tell you why - it's because I've been by myself for most of my spring break, with nothing but a cat, a TV, and my own wacky mind for company. With no one to talk to, I start to analyze myself. And ever since I've started this Sociology class I'm in, I've started questioning everything, and my thoughts run towards increasingly complex absurdities. Just the other day, as I was walking to pick up my pay stub, I was thinking about how Americans are stereotyped as vulgar and crass and inconsiderate. Did I agree with that description? Certainly not for myself, and not for anyone I knew, but I did believe it. But then who were the vulgar, crass Americans that lent credence to that stereotype? Do they really exist? Or is it just the product of Hollywood producers, who love to have snooty actors with French accents mutter darkly, "Americans"? It was then that I made it to my destination, and that particular train of thought desisted. Weird, eh?