time can move so slowly, and time can do so much

I have five weeks until my school life begins. This is sort of a strange feeling, because I thought I had more time left than that, and just that that much time has passed since school was out. I feel like it's cliche to talk about how fast time passes, so I won't.

What do I want to do with the rest of my life? That is something that I have been thinking about this summer. Do I want to write literary criticism and teach literature? Do I want to teach creative writing? Write fiction? Write poetry? Research and teach history? Translate? Play music? Pastor? Travel? Interview? All of the above? Who knows. I don't know if it's very important to try to figure all of that out right now. I think I try to do too much though, too many interests. Myers-Briggs would probably explain it.

I don't want to farm. Some people are really attracted to the idea of growing their own food, it really moves them. I'm not. I don't have a romantic view of farming or of farmers (except Tim). I try to avoid sentimentality, and that's what it often feels like to me. I will probably be in the first wave of people to die once nuclear holocaust strikes and all the people in the cities are forced out in the country to find and grow their own food. I'm just not suited for apocalyptic living.

I know that I am interested in being away from America, in warm, urban areas, and writing, and that the 2004 tsunami fascinates me and might be something that I keep going back to for the rest of my life.