Kids, right now I'm sitting in front of a class of students who are taking the final exam for the Interpersonal Communication course I taught this semester. Yes, actual people are taking a test that I wrote for a class that I taught. I'm not saying this to boost my ego, I'm saying this because holy freaking curse word, I am the mediator for how a student's academic future will look like.
There has to be something wrong here.
For full effect, download "Something's Wrong" by Eric Benet, and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.
You may be saying to yourself, WTF is going on in your life Brock? Where have you been? What happened with the consistency in your blogs? I know, I know, these last few weeks I have fallen off the social media radar and drifted into some type of digital purgatory, focusing solely on building relationships with actual people. That's crazy talk, tell me about it. Something people only born in the 1980's know about. But to be honest with you, I have no idea what's going on in my life right now. I mean, I do, but I don't. That makes no sense to you really, but let's be honest, it makes no sense that I am behind a computer assigning grades to my students while they wrap up their finals. That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever! We're talking about a kid who once had a seizure in this exact classroom and accidentally punched a hole in the front of a laptop while as an undergrad, now being given the keys to another human's academic development. Something has to be wrong here.
I will admit, I am very uncomfortable at this stage of my life. There, I said it. Things just don't make sense. Not logically, emotionally, mentally, any way you look at them, this is all some kind of jumbled mix of what appears to be erratic decisions and leaps of faith. I'm not in my "zone" as the sports world coins the phrase. Cue Johnny Thunder and his baritone voice reciting a play-by-play narrative of the NBA Finals. Please don't confuse the previous two sentences as my cry for help that an impending panic attack is on the horizon, all I am saying is that things at this point of my life do not, and I repeat, do not make sense. But then again, since when do I have to make sense about everything that happens?
Kids, I know I've tried to teach you a number of lessons with this online journal. Things like how you need to be your actual, true self in a relationship with another person, or how you need to listen more than you talk because frankly people won't care about you, or how Costco is a hidden gem of a cult that all of us need to bow down and worship. I have tried to sell pieces of both wisdom and crap to a handful of creatures that are still waiting to be made. And no, this isn't going to be yet another moral breakthrough that I want you to write on a piece of rustic leather and post to Pinterest, (does that even exist anymore).
I guess all I'm saying is that right now in my life, things do not make sense. They just don't. They are a chaotic wreck of possible events that I have no stinking idea as to how will pan out. I am uncomfortable with where my life is going. And I'm okay with that. Shit's about to go down, and I'm not pressing the panic button. Call me crazy, but I am comfortable with being uncomfortable.
Go ahead and sell that last line to Pinterest, it's gold I tell you.