Thursday, April 28, 2011

Crazy Eyes

I've clearly been on sabbatical from this blog, so I suppose my excuse could be this: I've taken a break from this blog to write my archaeology blog for my archaeology project, which I aced, just sayin'. (This is notable, because percentages that exceed either 80 or double-digits, even, are becoming more rare than pregnant pole-vaulters...)

Another excuse could be a complete lack of bloggable events in my life, but that is absolutely false.

So. Where to begin?

I have a friend who has very large eyes. They're lovely, and they're huge. Wide open, all the time. Perpetual surprise. The first time I saw her, I thought to myself: "Woah, this chick has crazy-eyes!" (in the most reverent and respectful way that such a statement could possibly be thought, of course.)

But as I learned more about her, what she does for a living, the nitty-gritty and honest-to-God gut-wrenching aspects of her life's work, crazy-eyes made more sense. Not because she has a crazy personality or a crazy disposition or a crazy mental state, on the contrary; she's a level-headed wave of calm in a roaring tempest of chaos, in fact. But crazy-eyes because...she needs them. She needs a wide-eyed awareness of everything going on around her. She can't miss any details; she refuses. She is careful while she gently splits the hairs of justice as we don't know it. She tirelessly peers into the darkness in front of her, with guarded alertness, with preparedness, with experience and wisdom. That is why she needs crazy eyes.

I only thought of this because I just downed two cups of coffee in a half hour. To most of you, this isn't any large feat...but I've severely weaned my addiction to coffee after the Great Coffee Hangover of '09, which lead to the Great Failed Calculus III Exam of '09. Also because I just realized that coffee, while handing me an extra hour or two without needing sleep (I suppose), also lends me anxiety symptoms, which are not welcome this week.

So, as caffeine-related anxiety kicks in (and I'd rather have that kind, as opposed to the others) I felt my own crazy gaze widen, and physics-related angst sunk in. I have Thermal Physics and Computer science scheduled for this very moment in time, but I'm writing a blog instead, because everything inside of me wants to scream I don't care anymore!!! (This is when my physics gal pals and I decide that it's never too late to be a trophy wife.) But seriously, the thing that I should be screaming is closer to this: I don't care about anything except thermal physics and computer science and quantum physics and archaeology. (Ok, archaeology maybe not so much. I'm not too concerned there.) But it's true. I am a physicist. I AM. I have to get past this mental funk. I am capable of this. It's time for stringent focus. I can't afford to be a failure, not this late in the game. I'm sick of feeling like a failure. I'm just not going to be one anymore. Simple enough.

So God, please let me survive. And survive well.


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