This semester has been very relaxed in terms of work load. It’s probably safe to assume that 13 credits, three of which are for TA’ing a class and another two are for a cooking class, will do that to you. Problem is actual work is starting to present itself. Two papers, a pre-lim, and a lab practical all due within the next week (a cooking lab practical…what!!??) hearkens back to the days of sophomore year and 16 credit semesters. The problem is back then I was in the busy mindset. Senior year, getting a job, and getting into grad school, has erased even remnants of those underclassmen thoughts from my mind. So when such a slew of work amasses into one week, it feels like I’m a pinch hitter, some washed up vet who only has name recognition coming up in the bottom of the ninth, with two outs, no runners on base, and four run deficit to face Mariano Rivera. I’m rusty. I’m not in the groove. I’m the sacrificial lamb. Two years ago I was the starting shortstop and lead off hitter going to the ballpark everyday knowing I’m going to play and being mentally prepared to get my four at-bats and be in the field for 27 outs. The rhythm made such work doable. The senior slide makes it seem ridiculous.The handicap created is more than a batting doughnut can cure.
I wonder back during freshman year how I handled the significant course load and adjusting to college at the same time. Today, it’s like I’ve been hitting Tim Wakefield knuckleballs for the past year and all of the sudden Wakefield’s on the bench and Joel Zumaya is chucking his 104 mph fastball at me. Maybe I’ll just pull an A-Rod, hack at three pitches, have it look like I made an effort, then walk back to the bench looking like I care I just struck out. Enticing. But the better angels of my nature will get the best of me and I will work to save my pride.
Look at that! I just took a quote right from my American Political Thought class from last semester! How do you like that Kramnick?! I’ve still got something in the tank.