Limbo

Today is the 23rd of June, a Saturday. According to my not particularly reliable computer clock, it is 5:33 PM. Pretty soon I will need to be vacuuming, removing extraneous papers from the corners of my room and pretending I was a tidy person all along. Sometime around 7 we'll start setting out stuff, organising glasses and silverware, plates and drinks and all that stuff. I will be interested to see how our party turns out; a combined effort from our flat--though only two of us have really invited guests. I am hesitant to put too much effort into it all, despite the fact that 2/3 of the guests will be friends of mine, because of a few particularly unsuccessful and disappointing attempts at planning something, which involve none of the people invited today but nevertheless dampens my enthusiasm.

I haven't worked in a week and a half, and until I reassume my swivel stool behind the desk at my old job I expect I won't be. I've had a good week: I finished a book; went running; met friends for coffee or drinks or lunch or whatnot; went biking; made tenuous progress on one of the two large projects awaiting me. I fill most of my time well, with reading, or newspapers, or writing, or sports. Still, sometimes I feel like I am filling time.

Half of me wants to live out my remaining very precious few weeks completely full-tilt, in a never-say-die, sleep-when-you're-dead, another-stupid-clichée fashion; another part of me wants to slow down and just take it easy. Mostly I'm subscribing to the latter school, still, I can't help but wonder if I am missing something, and if so, what. Travel has become self-limited, as I am lacking the enthusiasm to go somewhere alone, too lazy to visit the people I know and to whom I actually owe a visit, unwilling in many respects to go and do such interesting things as are available to me.

No one says I have to, either; I have none of this maniacal "typical American" kamikazee need to see every European capitol, none of this "this is my only chance" mentality. I know I'll be back; I think I knew that when I first arrived, at age 17, that Europe would be my home. Still, there is a long list of things I wanted to do, intended to do, planned on, hoped for, or hungered after that I just haven't done. There's a list of cities on my "to see" list that have been sitting there for near three years now, if not longer. For this year, I wanted to travel Switzerland, visit France, go hiking in the Alps, perfect my French.... so many things I just never got to.

Though I love just being in FR--and my days are usually filled, and I consider myself as taking advantage of such natural providence as FR offers--I feel I have spent lots of time in a way that, when I look back on it, I won't precisely be able to remember. Countless dinners stretching into the evening, breakfasts on the balcony, jogs and bike rides, strolls around town, hikes up the hill, movies with friends... Though each of these things is a special, unique memory, I am afraid they will run together into a single conception, or a series of activities otherwise indistinguishable, and that even they will fade. I have no way to keep the moments apart, to remember them as I would a trip to somewhere; those moments are recorded either here or in a notebook somewhere, or both. I want to look back on this and remember.

Of course, it isn't over yet. I've still got a few weeks, far too few but not to be overseen or underestimated. I don't have any last-ditch whirlwind tour of Europe planned. My apathy and I will attempt to fulfill some of the university expectations for this semester but from the perspective of 5:49 on Saturday afternoon, I can with somewhat honesty say that I will try, and with more assurance say that it probably won't happen.

Mostly I am trying to figure out how to use the time I've got. I don't know it's possible to go out with a bang (is there a congenital clichée disease going around?) or if that is even important to me. I've been busy for so long I don't know how to not be busy, and I can imagine the vacation I have taken from life for the past week will eventually bore me and I will get my act together. Who knows, perhaps I can get some of these requirements off my back, or perhaps I will prefer to pepper my calendar with coffee visits and drinks with friends than appoints in the library. The jury is out. In all respects.