The wreckage of academic life
Nobody—absolutely nobody—is allowed to visit me in my apartment until March. There is no one apart from me who is capable of navigating through the small confines of square feet covered in all the material trappings which happen to a space in the process of human living. Archeological layers of papers which, in order to find the right lecture hand out, I must analyze the stratus of each layer to find the current semester. The ocean of clothing which nolonger heeds the traditional bounds of my closet has interpreted my bedroom floor as a shelf. It trickles down to a stream into the living room and puddles in the kitchen as I rush awake every morning and plunge myself into it in order to appear vaguely put together. The sink is not full of dirty dishes because I no longer inhabit the space but only use the bed for brief naps at random intervals. Instead the kitchen table, counters, and floor are full of books in various piles which have found their way in to the kitchen because the living room/ study was transformed into an art study one late night and continues to exhibit the material and methods used to create my works of wonder. There are paths, but these can only be navigated after years of training in the famous Smith “Art Studio.” And this is a skill I am sure that I alone of all my friends possess.
Thus, you all are forbidden from entering my apartment, just be happy when you see me that I have not been consumed by the raw force of entropy.
Thus, you all are forbidden from entering my apartment, just be happy when you see me that I have not been consumed by the raw force of entropy.
posted by Sasha @ 10:42 PM
9 comments
9 Comments:
wow.....sounds rather terrifying, but sort of fascinating in a morbid sort of way.
I am coming home in February :) Can I at least see you outside your apartment?
Um, Cat? I myself am a prime specimin of academic wreckage, and have been employing the "books-clothes-papers on all exposed surfaces with nearly indecipherable pathways" paradigm for most (if not all) of my post-secondary career. Perhaps, among all your friends, I might be able to sympathize with, if not venture into, your appartmental state. I, in fact, believe that it is a stimulating way to live, and recommend it above the sterile but oft exalted approach of "tidyness." Much love and cat sounds,
*Mee*
Lol...well I am glad you can sympathize Mari, but can you empathize? I would say that a large majority of the population lives their lives this way whether they are participating in academic life or not. Some of us would rather employ methods of "hiding" the messes be it in small crevices, or big ones for that matter :P, and creating an illusion of "tidyness". I am not entirely sure which method is "good" or "not good" because putting a moral stamp on a way of enacting "tidyness" is difficult.
Lets face it, tidyness and messes are really only illusions anyways, captured in some sort of false perception of reality which our minds tell us is some sort of sensory truth or untruth.
So really Sasha the mess is only in your mind. Lol..
o.k. I am just spouting bull-shit out of my ass now :)
Anyways I would love to see you and your apartment :P.
thank you m'dears.
Kim you will probably have to see me outside my apartment anyway because my new room is the green room as you know. But after that we can walk across the river and you can witness for yourself the entropy. And while I may be exagerating a bit, I am sure the metaphysical and physical reality of the mess is real in my life. And academia certainly complicates it. In CR I was very tidy actually. So it remains to be seen what my habits are when I am finished. Perhaps the high stress levels I am used to are unhelathy? ;)
And Mari, I take great comfort in your mountain of clothes, thinking perhaps that I will not have to admit myself for mental illness to CSU. I will only say embark on your navigation of my apartment with great caution.
Here is a little bit of insight from the mind of a man. P.S. This is a "secret" that men will never admit to, and will disavow any knowledge of, but is none the less true.
Men consider the floor the biggest shelf in the house. It is just another place to put anything. Clothes, cd's, books, towels, just about anything. You see, just because clothes are on the floor, does not mean they are dirty. The floor was simply the most accessible and easiest place to put whatever it is that ends up there. It is organized. It is clean.
And so Sasha, you have discovered, not a dirty apartment, but rather the biggest shelf in the place. Congratulations.
Exactly: efficient, sanitary (mostly) and multipurpose! Unfortunately also un-presentable. I am, however, scared to draw the various logical conclusions… Either I am actually a man, or that men are constantly under as much stress as I am in full time college. Alternatively, it could be that I have reached levels of equality which have traditionally only been given to men…
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You are a man just face it :P
You are a man just face it :P
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