Playing the Part.

We are all human beings.  It seems a very obvious fact, but it’s something we can very easily forget or overlook.

As soon as we’re born, we are cast in a role.  We are labeled with the characteristics associated with our role, and as we grow, we are given different roles.  We play the parts of student, son/daughter, friend, etc.  We encounter other roles, and it is here that the problem starts to arise.  There are the roles of teacher, policeman, doctor, and countless others.  The clash of these characters can sometimes take the humanity out of the human race.  In a school setting, there are teachers and there are students.  Outside of school, these roles should melt away, but they don’t.  There are employees and bosses in the workplace, but after hours, those lines are still drawn.  We are a collection of labels: poor, smart, ugly, mail room worker.  It’s as if these sets of roles are tattooed on our very limbs.

How often do we let these labels get in the way of our ability to get along with a person?  Students forget that teachers are human beings with families, problems, and lives outside of the halls of academia.  Teachers forget that students are more than their letter grades, their tough exteriors, and the company they keep.  Bosses aren’t all curmudgeons delighting in the suffering of their employees, just as employees do not live merely to serve their superiors.

And while we’re on the subject of superiority, what gives us the right to say that one human life is superior to another?  Level of education?  The people they know?  Why do we stalk celebrities and hold their lives under a microscope?  What makes them so interesting and so much “better” than the rest of us?

When you strip away all of the characteristics that society has cast upon us, we are all human.  We are all living, breathing, loving, hurting, beautiful human beings trying to make it in the world, and it’s no help when we forget that we are in this together.  The minute we put someone on a pedestal is the moment we knock someone else down immeasurably.  When the working day is done, we are all on equal footing, no matter what car we walk to or what house we go home to.

Let’s come clean and start over, regardless of what life or society has decided we are.  We have more in common than in opposition.  I promise.

Hablando.

When I’m in a hurry, invariably there are ten things that must go wrong before I can leave the house.  Willow, get out of the office!  Willow!  Where’s my Spanish book?  Why isn’t the printer working?  Where did my makeup applicator go?  It’s a relentless stream of hurrying until I can manage to step out the door and run to my car.  Always running late, but hardly ever actually late.  Nina and I had said we would meet up between 8:30 and 9:00, and when she texted me it was 8:40.  Not late, right?

We had a great breakfast.  (I guess I should clarify that Nina was my Philosophy professor last semester, and it was the only class I actually enjoyed.)  It’s nice to have a conversation with an adult who takes me seriously.  Seeing as how I’m not getting much social time here at MU, this morning was a much-needed occasion.  (Plus I haven’t seen Nina in over a month, and I missed talking to her.)  We talked about a whole host of things, and varied conversations like that sustain me and give me much to think about.  Even with a sick and sluggish brain, I spent the majority of my trip to Marywood thinking.

Of course, I hit traffic on the way, and it was then I realized I had to pee.  Not just like a casual oh after class I’ll run to the bathroom.  No, this was oh sweet Jesus if I don’t get to Marywood within the next half hour I will have a new and embarrassing nickname.  Forget being late to class in a situation like this.  I did not expect to get a parking spot, because when you actually need something, it doesn’t happen.  Somehow I managed to get a spot in the last row, and the Jeep behind me was none too thrilled about my snag.  Walking was like tempting fate, and I thought that if I sneezed, Niagra would be falling.  (Since when do I have the bladder control of a new mother?)

I was power walking, and because I’m sick, my breathing was slightly raspy.  I was very close behind a guy not going quickly enough, so I slowed my pace, thinking, “Oh my God, what if he can hear me breathing.”

Well anyway, no new nickname, and so far my classes today have been decent.  Usually I’m self-conscious about speaking Spanish in a classroom, but when I’m sick and completely apathetic, I speak better.  I don’t spend so much time second guessing myself, and I let the thoughts just flow from brain to mouth with no interference.  Good when speaking Spanish, bad when speaking English.  There’s something to be said about monitoring your speech before it comes spilling out of your face, but hey.  To each her own.  I quite like being able to speak Spanish fluently, and I may never want to go back to being un-sick.  (Lies.)  I guess the experience is just teaching me that I can speak and therefore should have confidence about it.  I actually think in Spanish a lot of the time (truth), so why that doesn’t translate into speech is beyond me.

I better sort it out before I become a Spanish teacher, eh?

Anyway, my mom will be here soon.  She and I are going out to lunch because she got out of jury duty early.  I have off tomorrow, which is makin’ me happy in the pants.  (Lies.)  I still have to observe from 8:10 – 10:30, even though I’m probably not going to do education as an undergrad.  It seems like a waste, but I enjoy the experience… just not the getting up early.  I have one more class today, Special Ed, and then I get to go home.

Aaaaaaand I have to pee again.  Dammit, sick bladder.  Shut up.

Procrastination.

Because I have a Spanish composition to write, I decided to get a WordPress.  It’s logical, no?  It’s not that the composition is particularly hard to write, but rather that I’m sick and don’t feel like doing anything other than watch Storage Wars.  Tomorrow starts another lovely week at Marywood, and I’d much rather lie in bed and read.  Reading has become my escape as of late, and I think I’m better off for it.

Nina and I are going out to breakfast tomorrow.  I’m nervous only because I don’t like people watching me eat.  I am SO STRANGE, but yeah.  Plus, awkward silences are so uncomfortable.  I know I have nothing to worry about, but worry I do.  I need to break myself of that habit.

I’m hoping that this cold will leave me soon.  I think my head fuzziness has gone away, but that could be temporary.  I can’t afford to be sick.  I’d like to spend this week getting my major and everything straightened out.  It looks like I’ll be doing an English / Spanish double major, and then I’ll go to grad school to get my Master’s in Education.  So, when you boil it down, I will never graduate.  If it weren’t for my amazing Spanish professor and her wonderful colleagues, there’s no way I would be considering this crazy course.  We’ll see how it goes.

I need Parallels to work in order to do my online workbook exercises.  I have NO IDEA where my Spanish textbook is.  Honestly.  No idea.  I need it for my composition.  I am woefully unorganized.  Can I take NyQuil yet?  Man, I have to say one thing about being sick: NyQuil is my wonder drug.  It knocks me out, and for an insomniac like me, it’s a beautiful thing.  The only downside is that usually it’s a dreamless sleep, but I’d much rather that than a night of rolling around and feeling like my nose is on fire.  Gross.

Well kiddos, I’m going on a very slow crusade to find my Spanish book.  I have no energy, so I’ll wander into a room, flop down on the ground, contemplate the pattern and fiber of the carpet, and then sleep.  Then I’ll realize that I don’t have my Spanish book and will repeat the process.

Yawn.  ‘Night, y’all.