A Brief History of History

THAT FINAL SHOT.

DON REMEMBERS EVERY SECOND OF JFK’S ASSASSINATION AND BETTY SITTING AROUND THE TV GIVING HIM SHIT AND HOW THAT WAS THE FINAL STRAW IN THEIR MARRIAGE.

AND NOW RFK’S BEEN ASSASSINATED AND DON’S GOING THROUGH THE SAME THING.

I LOVE IT.

Last week felt like a dream. My goal, latched onto in the hopes of escaping a quagmire of misery, to graduate in two years had thoroughly been accomplished. I had never ever accomplished something that I thought was so dear to me.

And now, eight days later, here I am having to face reality again. It didn’t hit me until today, but I don’t want to do anything. My life hasn’t changed because some half-decent university decided to mail me a piece of paper. I now find myself faced with my horrible options:

1. Go back and get another degree. This is my current plan, but I don’t want to do this for much the same reason that I didn’t want to get out of bed every morning for the first month of my sophomore year of high school; I had spent every second of my freshman year waiting to get out, and I was all too horrible a thought to wind up back in there.

2. Go find a job. I’d like this. Believe me, I would like it quite a bit. But, I have zero work experience, so it’s not going to happen without taking baby steps first, at which point I’d feel like I was wasting my time if I weren’t also engaging in the above.

3. Grad school. The wonderful thing about economics is that post-graduate education is doctorate or bust. I am not PhD candidate material. Very, very few people are. I could go get an MAE, but I’m not sure that I’d get in, nor am I confident that it’s worth very much.

4. Do nothing! I did this last spring. It was one of the worst periods of my life.

What do I do?

I’d love to pretend like I know what I’m doing.

I don’t.

I never have.

I never will.

I wrote a six page essay and then, when I went to save it for the first time because I was finished, Word fucked up and wouldn’t let me get the locus in the window anymore. I killed the process thinking that it would autorecover. No such luck.

I’ve spent the last forty minutes screaming and breaking shit.

What, do people really think that rich, liberal northerners didn’t sympathize with MLK just because they were white? Obviously they weren’t impacted in the same way as black people were, but come on.

Look around you. It’s the same today. Most rich people support liberal causes, even when it’s not in the best interest of their own political/economic power.